This choice: Story of fantasy love for the overweight • Go Back...Chapter #4The Once and Future King, but with conditions by: hedkrakka   (A/N: I blame CKIII for this.)
"You sent for me, Father?"
Silence pervaded the ancient catacombs. For countless millennia, this dark, bleak place had been the resting place for the divinely descended royals of Esharia. The father of Prince Castien, King Aetius XII, had been spending much of his time down here recently since the passing of his wife, his beloved Sophia.
Now, Sophia was not the mother of Castien. Though husband and wife had tried, she was never able to conceive a child herself, and so Aetius had turned to the ancient right of the Royal Mistress. This right, as one might surmise, allowed the king to take a priestly-sanctioned mistress, and in the event the queen couldn't produce a royal heir, his majesty's children with the aforementioned mistress were considered legitimate.
The Mistress chosen was a woman by the name of Theodosia, and though there was no love between king and concubine such as existed between Aetius and Sophia, the two held each other in firm respect. Sophia and Theodosia, meanwhile, became the closest of friends, much to the surprise of many. Castien had been raised in a loving family home, in essence having two mothers, as Sophia doted on him as if he were her own.
Such happiness was not to last, however. Shortly after his 400th birthday, Sophia developed a sore throat. Within a matter of months, lumps began to appear on her skin, and she was diagnosed with the Blight. The Royal Doctors had tried a number of treatments, but in the end, the Queen had succumb to her sickness at a mere 812 years of age. Everyone was devastated, but none more so then Aetius, who had broken countless generations of tradition to marry the love of his life.
The King had all but disappeared from the world. Matters of state were left to the Privy Council and the Prince as Aetius fell to misery. Even after the end of the traditional mourning period, he spent most of his time by his wife's sarcophagus, sleeping by her stone head and scarcely eating. Castien had tried multiple times to see his father, but his Highness' Silverine Guard would not let him past. At long last, however, he had been summoned to his father's side.
Aetius was not as his son remembered him. He seemed to have aged terribly in such a short amount of time. In his youth, Aetius had been a tall, strongly built man, considered quite handsome by all who set eyes on him. Now, he seemed a barely animate skeleton. His once blonde hair had gone grey, and his pale skin seemed pulled tight over his frail bones.
"That I did," the old King responded, his voice a wispy rattle. "I have chosen to abdicate the throne and enter the monastery of Charon."
Aetius had always been a long winded and eloquent man, so the blunt simplicity of his statement was a little shocking. The content of his words, however, was not a surprise to Castien, given his father's actions over the past months. Castien nodded, his eyes tearing up. Those same eyes would then widen in shock at the king's next pronouncement.
"However, the throne shall not be yours."
A moment of silence passed before Castien could at last respond. "P-pardon?"
"Tradition must be maintained. You are unmarried and childless. The risk of the line ending is too great, and so the throne shall pass to your cousin, Mathias."
"You... you're not serious."
"Deathly. Not once in the entire history of our ancient realm has the Prince been unwed upon his coronation. The King and Queen of Esharia are the embodiment of Sol and Luna on Terra. They rule the Heavens together, as the Royals must. And you have rejected every proposal made to you, whether by myself or others. Frankly, you should have been wed two centuries ago, and given us grandchildren while Sophia was still alive to meet them."
Perhaps Aetius had meant his reprimand to be gentler then that, but it cut Castien deeply. "Father, this is utter madness. Mathias means well, but he's a lazy drunk. He'd rather go hunting then do anything approaching work, and spends gold coins like copper tokens."
"Be that as it may, he is the next in the line of succession, and his coronation would not break Divine Tradition. You have ruled well in my absence, and would make an able King, but the religious rites must be maintained." The King paused in silence for a moment, letting his words sink in. Only twice before has a crown prince been denied the throne, and in both instances the former heir was forced into the monastery of Sol. Should such a fate come to pass, Castien would have nothing to look forward to but a life of copying manuscripts. "However, there is one way to avoid your fate."
Castien, now quite pale, was eager for any lifeline he would be thrown. "What must I do?"
"Get married. Obviously."
*** *** ***
"How much time did he give you?"
"Five years," Castien said, swallowing his goblet of wine in a single shot. "When Luna and Sol meet in the sky, and their first daughter Venus passes in front of them."
Morgan chuckled. "Of course your father would pick the Centenary Festival. Well, it is supposed to be an auspicious omen to start your reign on the Gods' Holy Week. Still, that doesn't leave you much time."
Morgan was a human mage who had spent most of her life among the Elves. Mages live an exceptionally long time compared to other humans, and so she tended to feel more comfortable with the longer lived races. Already almost 500 years old, the raven haired beauty had confided in Castien that she actually found normal humans unreasonably impatient and exhausting to deal with. She had also stated that she was tired of burying friends and lovers from the human kingdoms, hence her move to the Esharia.
Of course, Castien's own theory was that she was just overly fond of Elven wine.
"Seriously, is there not a single person you're interested in?"
"You know there isn't," Castien grumbled as he refilled his drink. Morgan was perhaps the only person who knew the prince's actual preferences. Castien, you see, had a thing for bigger women.
Well, fat women.
Well, really, really fat women.
Somewhat unusually for an elf, Castien firmly believed that bigger was always better, and there was no such thing as too big. Nothing appealed to him like a fat woman totally in thrall to her appetite, eating more and growing more blubbery and useless by the day. His future queen would need to be a big woman, and would have to be comfortable being pampered and enabled into immobility and beyond. Indeed, if Castien had his way, she would eventually grow so vast magic would be required to maintain her gargantuan physique.
Physical appeal aside, Castien also wanted someone intelligent, and fun to talk to. Far too many noblewomen were vacuous and empty headed, more concerned with gossip and fashion then anything of substance. Add in the fact that most ate like birds, and it's easy to see why the prince was struggling so.
"At least your father's not asking you to stick to the traditional bride."
"After he forced the court to accept his marriage to a commoner, it would have been hypocritical for him to insist on it. Still, a traditional bride would be more readily accepted then another commoner."
"So ask Sylvia to marry you, then. It doesn't get more traditional then your own sister. She's really cute, her breasts would put a dairy cow to shame, and you two have been friends forever, so even if love never blossoms, you could at least function. She's always been a terrible glutton, too."
"And a total tomboy. There's a reason she's so thin despite how much she eats."
Much to the disgust of the other races (though some seemed to have... other reactions), far and away the most common type of marriage amongst the elves was consanguineous. Brother-sister was the most common, followed closely by avunculate and cousin pairings, and even parent-child weren't that rare. Siblings were attracted to each other by default as a general rule, and many coming of age ceremonies would double as engagement announcements.
Indeed, his father's marriage had been unusual for a lot of reasons. Many suspected, though not in the king's presence, that it was the lack of proper blood between king and queen which was to blame for their difficulties conceiving. After all, had he not fathered two children off Theodosia, his cousin?
Those who knew the Elves well could recognize hallmarks of the species natural focus towards inbreeding. Particularly inbred lines had their hair lighten over generations, from bright blonde to white. Their ears grew longer and more pointed, often curling slightly at the tips. The women, meanwhile, grew bustier and bustier as the generations passed, leaving the most ancient and pure lines extremely well endowed.
"I still say it's worth a shot. She fancies you, the court would love her, and I suspect getting her fat would be pretty easy, whether you tell her or not. Of course, if she's just not an option, we could look around a bit more. Surely there's someone fat enough for your tastes in the kingdom. Or, failing that, someone we can make fat enough. Well, what do you want to do?"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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