Chapter Tags: drinking, mentions of prostitution, major angst, mentions of death, mentions of cheating
Chapter WC: 2471
The King’s Blessing Masterlist
Deanās POV
Deanās head is foggy as he tries to blink his eyes open. But his head is pounding, and everything sounds so loud. Even the rustle of the bedsheets and the very distant bustle of people in the streets below are too loud for the prince. He groans as he tries to sit up, but immediately abandons that pursuit and lays back down, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the light. He should probably do something today that doesn’t involve drinking his way through half of Campbellās alcohol collection. But drinking is the only thing that numbs the pain and stops him thinking about that night a week ago, the eve of his wedding.
āYou should go,ā Y/N sighs, biting her bottom lip, looking up at him through her lashes.
āBut I donāt want to,ā Dean tells her, frowning slightly and making her giggle.
āYou shouldnāt be here, Dean, itās the eve of our wedding,ā she reminds him.
Dean rolls his eyes and chuckles. āAlright, fine, Iāll go,ā he relents. āBut not before I get a kiss from the Princess of Elming.ā
Y/N rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, but Dean can tell sheās secretly happy with the condition of his leaving, and steps forward.
āIf God punishes us for this, Iām blaming you,ā she tells him, glaring at him playfully.
āNah, me and the Lord are good, he likes me,ā Dean teases, reaching out and pulling her close.
He leans down and presses his lips to hers, and she kisses back, relaxing into the kiss immediately, lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck. Deanās arms wind around her body, keeping her as close as he can get her.
As they pull apart, Y/N presses her forehead to his, and she takes a deep breath. Dean smiles softly to himself, hardly able to believe his luck that he gets to marry this girl tomorrow. Her kisses still send pulses through his veins and make his stomach twist and turn and flutter. Heāll never admit that, of course; men ā especially princes ā arenāt supposed to feel those sorts of things. And if they do, heās never heard one speak of it out loud.
āI cannot wait until youāre my wife,ā he tells her quietly, blushing at his own admission. āAnd definitely canāt wait for tomorrow night.ā
āWhy?ā Y/N asks, genuinely curious.
Dean frowns for a second and then smirks a little. āWhen we finally get toā¦ consummate the marriage,ā he offers.
āOh,ā Y/N replies as she steps back out of his embrace. āOf course.ā
āWhatās wrong?ā Dean asks, frowning. āYou were excited for that before,ā he reminds her, trying to step closer to her once more. āYou donāt want to lay with me?ā
āYouāll be my husband, of course Iāll lay with you, itāll be my duty as your wife,ā she tells him.
āBut do you want to?ā Dean prompts, getting more and more concerned.
āI want to be the best wife to you, Dean,ā she tells him, avoiding a direct reply.
āY/N, answer my question,ā he insists.
Y/N hugs herself, looking around her chambers, and then starts to worry her bottom lip, and Dean can see that sheās a little nervous about something. He watches her head over to the wine in the corner of her room, and Dean realises heās never known Y/N to willingly choose to drink wine unless served it or invited to drink it by someone else. But she pours herself a glass and takes a sip.
āWhat if it hurts?ā she wonders, looking down at her glass and nowhere near him. āWhat if it was as awful as with the king?ā
āHey, my love,ā Dean rushes to her side, reaching out to hold her arm. āItāll be nothing like that day, I promise,ā he reassures her, āweāll go slow, and Iāll be careful, and if itās too painful, we can stop.ā
āWhat if I can never service you in the way a wife should?ā she asks, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. āWhat if I canāt do it and you grow tired of me and you find someone else to love, what if I canāt bear your children because of it?ā
āWeāll work it out,ā Dean insists. āAnd I could never grow tired of you, Y/N.ā Y/N looks away, the tears now trickling down her cheeks. āI love you more and more each day, and sureā¦ Iām excited to finally lay with you, but only because I want to share that connection with you, I want to finally experience it the way God intended it to be.ā
āDo you think Iāll be better with you?ā she asks. āDo you think God was punishing me for lying with a man who was not my husband by making it hurt like that?ā
āWho knows what God does,ā Dean scoffs, making her giggle slightly as well. āBut he canāt be all that mad, because he is still intending us to be together, and thereās no better blessing than that.ā
Y/N grins widely, her tears now gone and she nods her head. āOne more kiss before Iām your wife?ā she suggests, āthen you really should leave my chambers, Prince Dean, I need sleep to make sure Iām beautiful for tomorrow.ā
āYouāre beautiful enough,ā Dean insists, ābut I canāt say no to one more kiss.ā
Before their lips can touch once more, thereās a knock at Y/Nās chamber doors, and she looks over at him with wide, fearful eyes, before frantically looking around the room for a place for Dean to hide.
āWhatās the matter?ā Dean chuckles softly to himself at the pure panic on his belovedās face.
āYouāre not supposed to be in here,ā she reminds him, continuing to look around.
Dean decides to put her out of her frenzy, and figures that hiding the other side of her bed will suffice. As soon as he settles into place, Y/N clears her throat and calls for whoever is on the other side to enter.
āYour highness,ā one of the chambermaids speaks up. āThe king has requested your presence in his chambers.ā
āTonight?ā Y/N asks, a surprised tone in her voice. Dean frowns to himself, staring at a singular spot on the floor heās laying on.
āRight away, your highness.ā
āOkay, can you fetch me a dress to wear? I canāt see him in these clothes,ā Y/N replies simply.
āOf course, my lady, right away.ā
The door closes, and Dean peers over the bed to see the coast is clear.
āWhy does father want to see you at this late hour?ā Dean wonders out loud.
āI donāt know, but I guess Iāll find out. You should leave,ā she tells him, suddenly a lot more withdrawn than she had been.
āSure,ā Dean replies dejectedly. āI guess Iāll see you tomorrow, at the altar.ā
āOkay,ā she nods, turning away from him and heading towards the wine once more.
Dean watches her for a moment, and then sighs, turning and leaving her chambers before itās too late.
Deanās too nervous to sleep. He paces his chambers with a glass of wine, thinking about why the king wishes to meet with his beloved at such a late hour, and in his own chambers. And every time he tries to not think about that, telling himself he trusts Y/N and that thereās not much he can do about it until tomorrow, anyway, he instead thinks about the coming day. He tries to imagine how Y/N will look, what her dress will be like and how theyāll style her hair. He can see her walking down the aisle towards him in his mindās eye, and he smiles, but then itās ripped away as soon as he remembers where she is right now. He has to go, he has to find out what his father wants from her.
Dean leaves his chambers, realising heās a little more drunk than he thought heād be, and walks the halls towards his fatherās chambers, seeing the two guards standing on the outside.
āThe king has company, he doesnāt wish to be disturbed,ā the one tells him.
āIām not going to disturb him, Iām just waiting for my betrothed,ā Dean argues. The guard doesnāt argue back, so Dean remains quiet, realising heās swaying ever so slightly on his feet.
But when he concentrates hard enough he thinks he can hear them. His fatherās voice is just a low drone through the thick wooden doors, until Dean focuses and closes his eyes, and then he hears Y/Nās voice, crystal clear.
āHow do you wish me to service you, my king?ā
Dean swallows hard, frowning deeper.
āWith your mouth first,ā his father replies, and the second Dean makes for the door, both guards extend their arms and stop him.
Dean shrugs them off and glares at them, deciding itās best he doesnāt go into the room and kill his traitorous bride to be, and father on the eve of his wedding, anyway. He turns away and heads back to his chamber, desperate for more wine, maybe wine will clear his head, stop him thinking about Y/N altogether. How is he supposed to marry her in the morning if sheās running to his fatherās chambers to service him, when sheās only supposed to service Dean ā her husband? Does she even want to lay with him? She made such a big fuss out of it earlier that night Dean canāt be sure. She didnāt seem to make any fuss for her king. Deanās head is spinning as he locks himself in his chambers and hopes thereās enough wine to see him through to a plan.
Dean eventually gets himself upright, prompting the redhead at his side to grumble and roll onto her front, and he grimaces slightly as he gets flashes of the night before and how heād managed to convince the whore beside him to waver any charges for their night together, spilling his guts with his sob story about his bride that wasnāt faithful and the terrible night he discovered so, followed by yet even more bad news.
But he tries not to think about the bad news that followed, tries to drown that out with whatever dregs of alcohol lie at the bottom of the wine bottle still at his bedside.
āGood morning, your majesty.ā
He feels lips press to the back of his shoulder and glances over it to see the redhead is now awake, pressing herself up behind him.
āYou know Iām not a king,ā he reminds her, shaking the wine bottle to find itās finally empty.
āYet,ā she giggles. āBesides, youāre the most important person in Campbell right now,ā she purrs, settling a little higher on her knees. āAnd Iām happy to serve you any way you please.ā Her hands rub over the front of his chest and down his naked torso. āI think I proved that last night.ā
āYouāre confident for someone in a princeās presence,ā Dean notes, feeling a little fragile from the night before, and now heās not so drunk, the redheadās presence isnāt so much comforting as it is irritating.
Every time he thinks of the girl who should now be his wife he feels a little sick, and thereās a heavy sadness in his chest Deanās never felt before; the guilt of what heās doing now heās away from the Kingdom of Lawrence doesnāt help, either. But heās no longer betrothed to Y/N. So the guilt is redundant, he knows that. Instead he should feel jealousy; jealous that his father got what was meant to be his.
At the thought of his father, Deanās stomach clenches and the sadness only grows heavier in his chest, as he thinks back to the last time he spoke with him.
āWhat do you want, father?ā Dean grunts. āFinished with my whore of a betrothed?ā
But Deanās anger disperses when he sees the tears in Johnās eyes. Dean has never witnessed the king cry before, and heās not sure how heās supposed to react.
āCan I come in, son?ā John chokes out.
Dean silently steps to one side and watches his father enter his chambers, looking around quietly for a moment, making Dean feel more and more nervous.
āWhatās the matter?ā Dean asks hesitantly.
The king finally turns to face his eldest son and swallows thickly.
āSit down, Dean,ā he orders softly, making his own way to Deanās couch to take a seat. āBring some wine with you.ā
Dean does as heās told, forgetting all about his anger towards his father and bride, and pouring two large glasses of wine to bring to his father as he sits beside him.
āNot many people know this, but your mother was sick,ā John begins. āA sickness no medicines or potions could cure,ā he goes on.
Dean frowns, wondering how he could be so naive and oblivious to something like that. His mother never looked or seemed sick.
āSheās gone, Dean, Iām sorry.ā
āGone?ā Dean presses, sitting back slightly. āWhat do you mean gone?ā
āDead,ā John chokes out.
āWhat?ā Dean swallows, the word echoing around his brain. He feels sick, suddenly, like he might throw up at their feet.
āI canātā¦ I donāt know what to do son,ā John admits, āyouāre to be married tomorrow, and your mother is to be buried, and someone needs to tell your grandparents the news of their daughter. And I need a new queenā¦ā he trails off.
āIs that why Y/N was in your quarters tonight?ā Dean asks, frowning.
āWhat?ā John presses, and then he pauses and licks his lips, taking a deep breath.
āWere you asking her to marry you, to replace my mother?ā
Deanās not sure what he feels first about the idea, jealousy or disgust. He knows that the kingdom is vulnerable without a queen by the kingās side, but the thought of John already thinking about his motherās replacement the night of her death seems too sudden. And the idea of Deanās betrothed ā the love of his life ā being that replacement is almost too much to handle.
āSon, I need a queen,ā John sighs. āSheās the only one suitable at such short notice, and she was happy to accept the proposal.ā
Dean scoffs, shaking his head as he bolts to his feet. āThis is fucking ridiculous.ā
āSonāā
āYou know what, father? Take herā¦ sheās a fucking whore anyway. You need someone to go to Campbell? Iāll do it, I donāt want to stick around and see this nightmare anyway.ā
Deanās jaw clenches hard and John sighs, and rises to stand too. āSon, I loved your mother, but I have duties as a king.ā
āFuck you. Fuck you both. Donāt expect me to come back.ā
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