Chapter Text
The crack of wooden swords rang across the open yard, dust kicking up around Nora’s feet as she dealt a quick flurry of blows to her opponent. She darted back as he swung forward, parrying his swing and jabbing the blunt end of the wood against his arm.
“Fuck!” he yelped, rubbing at the spot. It was probably going to bruise.
Nora grinned. “And you said I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with my mind on the wedding.”
Barney shot her a grim smile. “And that’s me corrected, eh? Hope your father doesn’t need a hand with any heavy lifting this afternoon, or he’ll be down a man.”
She laughed. “You know you’ll be there as a guest. No heavy lifting required. You can just sit there and enjoy the food and the wine and the company.”
Barney’s hand rested on the place she’d jabbed him. “That’s if our bride shows up at all.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone think I’m going to run?”
He swung the sword. “Because it’s an arranged marriage. And you didn’t seem interested.”
She snorted, and slipped her practise blade through her belt loop. “Because everyone knows that Edward is the town drunk and he’s probably slept with half the women there. If not for the fact that he’s half-decent as a person I wouldn’t have agreed to this at all.”
Barney’s eyes were sympathetic. “I think your father would let you back out if you changed your mind before the ceremony.”
Nora shrugged. “I could have ended up much worse off, don’t you think?”
His brows rose. “Your father would never let a worse man near you and you know it.”
“You’re not wrong,” she agreed.
The older man grinned. “‘Course I’m not wrong. I didn’t get to my age by making bad decisions and being wrong, did I?”
“You’ve made plenty of bad decisions and you know it,” she reminded him.
“I’ve been a pinnacle of wisdom!” he protested.
The sound of approaching horses cut off any response Nora had been thinking of, and the two of them looked towards the gate to see a small group riding through. Nora’s father led them, and at the sight of him, her brows furrowed.
“Father,” she said, as they stopped in front of her.
His grey brows were furrowed, and he gazed at her in concern. “Nora, are you all right?”
She nodded. “I- yes. Why wouldn’t I…”
Theodore sighed. “Edward was found floating down the river very early this morning.”
Her eyes widened. Edward Maxson had never been the pinnacle of a good human being, but she’d grown up with him and he’d been decent enough that she knew her life would be comfortable and she would never be in danger from him, even if they never fell in love. But this… “That’s awful,” she whispered. “They couldn’t save him?”
Her father shook his head. “He was cold and blue. There was nothing to do.”
She swallowed. “What a waste. How is- how is Lord Maxson?”
Theodore gestured for her to come over, and as Nora approached, one of the men got off his horse and held the reins out to her as Theo got back on his own mount. “Not well. We’re going to see him immediately. You need to come with us.”
“Where did they find him?” Nora asked, climbing into the saddle.
Theo turned the horse around and began riding out of the gate. “Tangled in the old willows. He was out drinking and got separated from his party. When they realised he was missing they ran out to look for him, but…”
“That’s terrible,” she murmured. “I can’t believe it. He was only a little older than me.”
“He was never as concerned about his wellbeing as he should have,” Theodore muttered.
Nora bit her lip. “Father, about the wedding…”
“That’s a question for Jonathan,” Theodore replied. “He hasn’t told me to call it off yet.”
Her brow furrowed. Her groom was dead. What was Jonathan going to do if not call it off?
The manor was bustling with activity as they approached, a confusing mixture of wedding preparations and funeral arrangements that left the servants looking dazed. A few of them watched her as she and her father rode into the courtyard, and Nora wondered what they were thinking, slipping off her horse.
She’d been to this house hundreds of times as a child to play, but it felt very different now, knowing it might still become her home. Though how that was possible, she didn’t know. But as they approached Jonathan’s study, they could hear voices that fell silent when Theodore rapped on the dark wooden door that led in.
“Enter,” Jonathan’s gruff voice called, and they did.
Jonathan’s eyes were red and his face was puffy, and Nora could see as they approached that several sheets of paper lying on the desk in front of him were dotted and wrinkled with tears.
“Ah, Nora,” the lord began. “I see you’re in good health.”
“I’m sorry about Edward,” she said.
He swallowed. “Yes,” he looked away, “I’m sure you are. I know this marriage was arranged, and you two weren’t lovers by any means, but I did think it would have worked out well between you two. It…” His eyes glimmered. “It… cannot be helped. My son made a mistake.” He sighed. “And he paid for it with his life. Thus, he isn’t here today to join with you.” He straightened up. “However, do you still wish to continue with the wedding?”
Nora bit her lip. “I don’t really see… how… when I don’t have a groom.”
Jonathan cleared his throat, and Nora jerked towards her father in shock as a man appeared beside him, one who had been stood out of view behind a large cabinet on their left. As the light hit his face, Nora saw the scar first, and then the rest of him, and immediately she knew who it was.
“Arthur,” she breathed, linking her fingers together, suddenly fully aware of the dirt and dust covering her clothes from her sparring session.
He had grown, shooting up far above her, and his whole body had thickened. She could see the muscle straining at his shirt. Heat flushed her cheeks and she tried not to stare. Arthur had always been the one doing the reading whilst she sparred with Edward and Barney, preferring to stay inside and sit there for hours with piles of books. It wasn’t that he hadn’t joined in at times - swimming, sometimes, climbing trees - but he’d never struck her as the kind who stayed outdoors. And then he had gone off to join the army, and Nora supposed that was where… all this had happened to him.
“He returned home from his posting to attend his brother’s wedding, but,” Jonathan’s eyes dropped to the tearstained paper, “that was not to be.” The older man’s eyes met hers. “I have asked him if he would take Edward’s place, and he has agreed, so long as you do.”
Nora looked at Arthur’s face, not quite meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to,” she assured him. “This isn’t why you came home, after all.”
“I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t find the offer acceptable,” he replied, his eyes quickly glancing her over. It had been a handful of years since they’d seen one another, Arthur having gone off to the army at age 16, but she was a welcomed sight.
'I-I know but you didn't… expect this when you came back," she pointed out, watching the way his eyes had quickly glanced her over. Nora couldn't help the warmth that flooded her as she gave him a similar look over once more. 4 years was apparently a very long time.
"Nora, I appreciate your concern but I must ask - do you agree to marrying Arthur?" Jonathan asked. He sounded tired. “I need to know if I am burying one son and marrying off another on the same day.”
Nora looked over at him. "Yes. I do."
Jonathan nodded. "Then the preparations for the wedding shall continue. Theodore, I shall see you this afternoon. Nora, thank you. Arthur, go have the servants ready you. The ceremony starts at midday."
“Please hold your arm up, Lord Maxson,” the tailor gently ordered.
“I am holding it up.”
“Higher and out straight. You’re letting it slack.”
Arthur grunted in annoyance and raised his arm a little, straightening it out some more while attempting to keep it still lest the tailor scold him again for the umpteenth time since he’d started getting fitted for his suit. He was supposed to wear the same thing his brother had intended for the wedding, but Arthur… had a different body than Edward—bulkier, taller, no gut—so adjustments to clothing were needed. And there were a lot of adjustments.
But he found himself drifting off into thought after so long. His brother was dead and gone, someone he’d communicated with over the past four years solely through written letters while Arthur was away in the army. He’d been proud the eldest Maxson brother found someone to marry and was rather excited to attend the wedding, ready to see his sibling find happiness and the beginning of a family, and being told it was Nora Barker was not a surprise since the two were friends growing up. Edward seemed to have a thing for her, at least from what Arthur could tell, though he didn’t spend too much time with them despite how Nora was closer to his age than Edward’s. Still, the idea of them marrying meant there was a good chance that Nora could whip Edward into shape from his bad habit of laziness and, apparently—which Arthur had been unaware of until this morning—alcoholism.
But that wasn’t a possibility any longer.
The mere thought of his brother had his eyes closing and stomach twisting. He couldn’t—
“Arm. Up.”
Arthur’s jaw tensed and he shot a glare at the tailor but tried to hold his arm up a little more; his tricep was burning from how long he’d been doing it, but he attempted to focus on something else—anything else—that might keep him from having to feel it.
Nora.
Nora Barker.
He last saw her four years ago, but she was so small then, so different. Skinny, wiry, mostly muscle, and still a girl—but not a woman… then again, his own body had drastically changed, as well. But he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he was asked if he wanted to take his brother’s place. Edward’s slightly crass letters around the summer after Arthur left described how Nora had changed, but even as they described her body in sometimes overly-specific and inappropriate detail, he was still taken aback as soon as he laid eyes on her.
Nora was not what he’d expected her to be; she was not the girl he remembered who had spent hours sparring with Edward and climbing trees. She had occasionally been a little feral, disappearing off for hours into the woods and wildlands around, coming back muddy only to return after a long bath with yards of fabric that she’d used to make herself new clothes for the next adventure.
And now that he saw these changes for himself, he couldn’t help but mentally agree with his brother: they were significant and he certainly appreciated them. Nora had changed from the girl he’d grown up with into a woman, and she’d—
“Lord Maxson, please keep your arm up, I do not want to have to tell you again.”
“Damnit, Weaver, I’m trying,” Arthur snarled.
“Give him a little leeway, please,” Jonathan sighed. “This… is a very abrupt situation none of us foresaw and I doubt any of us are pleased that it is happening.” He watched Arthur, his eyes red and glistening. “Both of you, that is.”
“Can we not just get a different tunic and go from there? Edward’s size was too different from mine,” Arthur grumbled.
Jonathan looked over at the carafe of wine on the table, then ignored it. “I… do not know, Arthur,” he murmured. “I don’t.” He looked over at the tailor. “Is it possible for you to simply amend it based on the shirt Arthur was wearing when he came in?”
“You could just let me wear my own clothes, Father,” Arthur cut in before the tailor could answer, his eyes remaining on Jonathan.
Jonathan pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You cannot wear your travelling clothes to a wedding,” he said. “If your uniform is smart enough, you may wear that, but if your new bride dislikes it, tell her who chose to wear it.”
Rolling his eyes, the youngest Maxson made an irritated noise. “Fine, I’ll ask her first.”
“She’s doing her own preparations, I doubt you’ll get the chance,” Jonathan drawled.
“Then Weaver can ask her.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” the tailor mumbled. “I’ve been your family’s tailor for decades and you and your brother are the most difficult Maxsons I’ve dealt with. If you wish to wear your uniform, then I hope your bride appreciates it. Otherwise, I will say I told you so.”
“Weaver will not be allowed to enter the Barker’s estate either,” Jonathan pointed out. “Most likely because given the state she was in when she appeared, she’s probably having a bath.”
Arthur shot his father a look.
“Arm up,” Weaver ordered.
The youngest Maxson yanked his arm away, childishly holding it against his chest like he were protecting it. “No, I’m wearing my uniform,” he declared before glaring at both older men while stepping off the pedestal he’d been on to elevate himself for the tailor.
Jonathan sighed. “If you didn’t wish to submit yourself to the dull rituals of marriage, Arthur, why did you agree to this?”
Rather than answering, Arthur just waved his hand as if he were waving the question away and started walking to the door. “I’m going to get ready,” he grumbled.
“I have no energy to fight you, Arthur,” Jonathan told him, slumping in his chair. “I only ask that you give this marriage your full attention.”
Nora’s red cloak hung over the mannequin, ready for her. It was her mother’s, from her own wedding when she’d swapped the dark green mantle of her own house for Nora’s father’s lush, slightly pinkish red. She hoped she wouldn’t be too hot - she wore a light shift beneath the pale white dress, and wedding parties had a reputation for getting warm with all the candles and people in the room.
“I’m sorry about Edward.”
The voice came from behind her as her maid gently brushed her hair, just slowly moving the brush through the dark locks to free the tangles without pulling too much.
“It’s such a waste,” Nora sighed. “He shouldn’t have drunk so much or been near the river. His friends should have known that.” She linked her fingers together. “But I don’t imagine they’re unaware of that. It must be pretty tough for them.”
“I’m sure they feel terrible about what happened,” Maria said quietly. “They will have to live with it. But there’s nothing that can be changed; what happened is done. I know you lost a friend and your future husband, but we cannot alter the past.”
“I’m still amazed that Jonathan didn’t call it off or rearrange it,” Nora admitted. “He just… asked Arthur instead. I wasn’t expecting to see him. I mean, I was, but… as a guest. They were pretty close, even after he left for the army. I wonder how he’s taking it.”
“Probably not well, but you know men: they internalize everything,” the maid said with a shrug as she bundled Nora’s hair at her back, brushing it all at once. “It’s a lot for everyone, including Jonathan Maxson. But it’s possible he wanted some joy after such a loss.”
“Is it bad to say that Edward and I stopped being friends a while ago?” Nora asked. “After he started… all that. We sparred a lot, but… things changed. I caught him looking at me too many times when he thought I didn’t notice, and there were a lot of women…”
“I don’t think that’s bad, no. You were friends when you were younger, but he kind of became… well,” Maria paused to search for the right words, “He didn’t make a lot of good choices. And I told you this before, but it was almost like you were expected to fix what was wrong with him by marrying him. I don’t think anyone could do that.”
Nora stared at her own reflection. “I’m one woman, not a sorceress. Fuck, it would take a deity to have dealt with that man’s shit. He wasn’t even bad, just… a mess.” She thought briefly about Arthur, standing there looking calm and collected and up and down at her.
“Yeah, and now you have the other Maxson,” Maria said as she set the brush down and began to part Nora’s hair. “I never met him, only Edward. What was he like, you know, back then?”
“You wouldn’t recognise him now if you did,” Nora muttered. “Oh, he was- he was a twig. Nothing of him. He liked to sit inside and read. He’d join us sometimes when we went swimming and he did a little bit of sparring, but I never expected him to join the army. And now he’s-” she broke off, spreading her hands wide, “changed.”
Maria paused, her hands freezing in their movements as she went quiet for a few long moments. “… Wait, so you’re saying he went from being a twig to, what, bulky?” she asked.
“Maria, I would break my practise sword on him if I tried to hit him now,” Nora promised. “I- I barely saw any of him but he was just so- so broad. And- he had a huge scar on his right cheek. Definitely didn’t give him that.”
Raising her eyebrows, the maid blinked a few times in surprise. “Oh. Wow. So… he’s attractive, then,” she said. “Not just big.”
“He was cute when I last saw him,” Nora said. “I mean. Skinny. And pale. And he used to read through the night so there were dark circles under his eyes. But… cute. And now… he’s…”
“Hot? Sexy? Pretty? Someone you’d like to fuck without caring about the consequences?”
Nora spluttered. “That- doesn’t really matter now, does it? We’re getting married, so…”
“Oh, right. So he’s just hot, sexy, pretty, and someone you get to fuck while also trying to have children,” Maria corrected.
“Well, I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Nora sighed. “I’ve never tried it.”
“Do you want me to go ask him? I’ll go ask him.”
“Maria!” Nora squawked. The only thing stopping her from whipping her head around was that Maria had Nora’s hair in her hand. “Maria, they won’t find your body!”
She grinned at Nora in the mirror. “Okay, okay, fine. I won’t ask him but only because you’re threatening me.”
“You’re so meeeeeeean,” Nora whined. “My best friend and she’s bullying me.”
“It’s your wedding day. Someone has to bully you,” the maid retorted. “Who better to do it than me?”
Nora grunted. “You’re lucky it’s not your arranged marriage,” she muttered. “It- it’s the one thing I’m really worried about.”
Sighing, Maria continued working on Nora’s hair, her fingers quickly moving. “I know, and you have every right to be worried, but I think everything will be okay. You can handle any man who comes at you, including one who’s apparently built like a castle, and you have swords to chop him up if necessary. We can dispose of his body wherever we need to if it comes to that. You know I’ll help.”
“Gods have mercy, I’m already planning to murder him,” she sighed. “And, well, maybe when you see him, you’ll understand my concern. He looks like he could hold me down with one finger. I really don’t think I could escape.”
“… Okay, so I see where you’re coming from, but maybe look at the bright side—that’s kind of hot.”
“Yes it is,” Nora mumbled. “But! What if he’s terrible? What if he just rolls off me and falls asleep?! I can’t spend the rest of my married life doing it for myself!”
“Nora, the man reads a lot of books. Do you really think he’s not willing to learn? And if he isn’t, I’m pretty sure you could convince him to. Just threaten to chop him up,” Maria suggested.
“And we’re back to murder.” Nora bit her lip. “The problem is that… I don’t really know what bad involves…"
“You will. If you don’t like it, if it hurts, if he’s not giving you attention, if you aren’t getting pleasure out of it… it’s bad. We can always talk about it after because you know I want all the details since I’m a nosy bitch,” the maid added with a grin.
“I’m not giving you details about my wedding night!” Nora gasped. “That’s meant to be between me and my husband!”
“Oh, sure, sure. Definitely. We won’t talk about it at all,” Maria mumbled as she finished with Nora’s hair, brushing out the tangles from the part she didn’t fix up.
“…you can’t ask me, let me tell you,” Nora requested.
Her grin widened. “Yeah, didn’t take long for you to give in.”
Nora wagged a finger at her, looking at her in the mirror. “Who else is going to give me marital advice on sex with my husband? My father?” She shuddered just thinking about it. “No. If I need you to be my lifeline, then so be it.”
Maria just kept grinning triumphantly, finishing up brushing out the rest of the tangles as she fell quiet; and then—
“… I wonder if he has a big dick.”
Nora yelped in surprise, her cheeks burning. “Maria! I’m already worried about the night!”
“You’re right, I should have just found out for myself before saying anything. I’ll keep an eye out,” she said, nodding to herself. “But you should hope he has one.”
“You’re the worst,” Nora grunted.
“And yet I’m your best friend. There’s a reason for that.”
An irritated keening noise escaped Nora and she pouted up at the other woman in the mirror. “You will end me, I swear.”
“It’s more likely he will end you. Tonight,” Maria teased, setting down the brush.