Chapter Text
With his eyes on the floor, bowed down in submission before the Southern King, Alfred waited for his father to speak. As he waited, Alfred tried to remember the last time his father had spoken to him. It had been the last time he had been disciplined, Alfred remembered. Was that three months ago now? Or was it four? Alfred nearly jumped when the daunting voice finally spoke.
“I have received a request for a son to be given in marriage to the Northern Kingdom’s heir. You will leave in three days.”
Alfred looked up at his father incredulously. What time was this, to be getting married, with thousands of innocents dead at the hands of terrorists? To question the intimidating man would be asking for punishment, but Alfred could not be docile and obedient with war at hand. With wariness, he dared to speak. “But... Father, I have to stay and fight. Those monsters have already taken two of the port cities-”
“Do not question my authority!” His father roared. “You will marry the Prince to strengthen the Two Kingdoms’ relationship. If we do not have their full support, there is no way we can defeat the Herragians. I’m sending you since I need your siblings to help me. This is actually good for you. I never thought you would ever be valuable, but these circumstances are giving you an opportunity to be useful for something. Pack lightly, the King wrote that they would provide new possessions for you. I can’t afford to send more than one horse to take you there. We must preserve all the resources we can.”
With his last word, the King of the Southern Kingdom rose from his throne.
“I have battle plans to arrange. This will likely be the last time I see you until the war ends, at the very least. You have three days to prepare. Try to keep the royals happy. You don’t have any skills or abilities, but all they asked for was a son," he paused and shot a glance at Alfred, still kneeling at his feet. “Do not ruin this."
Without another word, the king strode out of the room, leaving Alfred in shock on the floor. His father’s throne looked as towering and threatening as it had for the past nineteen years of Alfred’s life. When he was a child, much smaller than now, Alfred had wondered if his father would ever become less terrifying. The sweet and kind child had dreamed of growing tall and strong, becoming more of a man than the King could ever be. In daydreams, Alfred would not take the harsh words and disdainful looks from the man, but instead, stand strong and firm to demand respect with dignity.
At nineteen, Alfred still cowered at his father’s feet.
~
A few hours later, in his room, Alfred hurriedly packed his most precious possessions. A hardcover book of fairy tales his mother had given him on his fifth birthday, his then-favorite animal, a lion, embroidered on the cover, and his mother’s inscription on the inside cover. To my sweetest boy, Alfred. May you never forget to dream. Happy Birthday. Love, Mama. Alfred gently laid the book between the folds of a change of clothes to protect the precious volume. On top, he laid a small packet, containing pressed flowers from the day ten-year-old Alfred had visited one of the southernmost towns. A present from a little peasant boy. “Prince! Prince!” The boy had yelled as the royal carriage passed through town. Alfred asked Mama to stop the carriage and stuck his head out the window as the little boy ran to catch up to where the carriage stopped. “My prince! Please take these flowers! I picked them just for you! “
Sharp raps on the door jerked Alfred from his memories. Slightly disoriented, he called out with a shaking voice. “Come in.”
The large door was opened to reveal Alfred’s closest (and only) friend. Prince Matthew, heir to the Southern Throne, Alfred’s younger brother.
“What the actual fuck, Alfred?” Matthew’s face was distraught. “One of the servants told me you’re leaving. To get married to the fucking heir to the Northern Kingdom! What happened? Did Father tell you anything about why? Why didn’t you come and tell me immediately?” Matthew’s voice grew more and more emotional as he spoke, almost yelling the last sentence. Alfred flinched as Matthew grabbed his shoulders.
“All he told me was that the Northern Kingdom wanted a son for the heir to marry.” Alfred’s voice and face were calm, a stark contrast to Matthew’s frantic aura. “He said we can’t afford to upset the Northerners, not with how much we need their support. The only reason we managed to fend off the Herragians in the last battle was because of the weapons their King sent.”
“How desperate are they to demand a prince for their son? Is he so pathetic that the only way they can get him married is to blackmail us into giving you up?” Matthew was really yelling now. Alfred felt his heart sink into his chest as remorse filled his entire body. He had avoided talking to his brother to delay thinking about being thrown away, to avoid thinking about his utter uselessness and how unwanted by his father he was, but now Matthew was throwing all those feelings and bad thoughts to the forefront of his mind.
“Matty, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.” Alfred wrapped his arms around his precious brother, truly the only person who loved Alfred.
Again, Alfred thought of his mother, the only person who had ever cared for Alfred besides his eldest brother. When Alfred would run and hide to cry after being ignored or chastised by his uncaring father, it was his mother who would find him, hidden in some dusty corner of an unused room. When his other siblings would bully him, picking up on their father’s distaste for the boy, his mother would pick him up and hold him gently in her arms, entreating Alfred to forgive them and to play with Matthew. With her dead in the grave, Matthew was the last person left to care for Alfred.
As Matthew broke down in tears, Alfred held him and wondered what life would be like, away from his father’s abuse but also from his brother’s love. Would anyone love or hate him in the North? How would the Prince of the North be? Looking around at the room that had housed him for his entire life, his refuge from the harsh reality outside the bedroom door, Alfred tried to envision a life away from everything he had ever known.
~
Three days later, Alfred mounted his horse and caught the knapsack Matthew tossed up to him. The sun was just barely starting to rise over the horizon. As the guard who would be accompanying him approached, Matthew handed Alfred an envelope.
“Don’t open it until you really need it, Alfie.”
Alfred looked at his brother and had to fight back tears. “I’ll miss you, Matty,” Alfred smiled. “Now you'd better go and form a winning battle plan so I can come back and visit soon.” He gulped at the acknowledgment of this kingdom no longer being where he lived, but now a place to only visit. The pain that passed over Matthew’s face told Alfred that his brother had noticed this, too.
“My Prince, it is time to go.” The guard interjected. With resolve, Alfred reached for his horse’s rein.
“Goodbye, Alfie! I love you.” Matthew called out. Alfred looked back and gave him a forced but caring smile.
“I love you too, Matt.” With that, Alfred turned north and began his journey.
~
It took the whole day to cross the desert dividing the South and North Kingdoms. As Alfred and his escort crossed the highway built across it, Alfred grew lost in his thoughts, looking across seemingly endless dunes. Around noon, they stopped at one of the little towns built for traders and travelers to rest and refresh. As the horses drank and ate, Alfred wondered what his future husband would be like. Is he tall? Short? What kind of music does he like? Is he pro or anti mint chocolate chip ice cream? Alfred asked himself silly questions about the mysterious fiancé to distract himself from his fears. Is he ruthless? Unkind? Quick to anger? were the questions plaguing Alfred in the back of his mind. He never really learned much about the Northern royalty. All he knew was that the king and queen had one son, their only heir, and that this son was only a bit older than Alfred himself.
For the remainder of the journey, Alfred’s pondering turned to simmering anger. For all of his education, for all the books on battle, logic, and strategy Alfred had pulled all nighters to pore over, for all of the thoughts Alfred had thought, he had no chance to prove himself as a leader. Years spent expanding his mind to prove to his father of his usefulness, his value, so much time spent attempting to make his father acknowledge Alfred’s worth as a human being were all for nothing. Now he was being sold off like cattle, to be nothing more than a trophy spouse, no doubt. Seething at being robbed of the opportunity to win his father’s love, Alfred resolved in his heart to never let the Northern Prince break down his walls. Alfred would prove himself to someone, anyone, hell, the whole fucking Two Kingdoms.
As the sun started to set, the road began to go up, the desert receded, and the two hit a forest filled with evergreen trees. Now officially in the Northern Kingdom, they continued up the ever-up sloping road, passing many mining towns on the road. Alfred noted the differences between these villages and the ones in his home country, the dark cabins built of sturdy wood to keep in heat, a stark difference to the open-air villas he was used to. The people milling around, their work done for the day, wore heavy coats of fur that Alfred didn’t recognize. In the village where they bought feed and water for the horses, Alfred had bought a coat at the insistence of his escort. Feeling the strong wind bite at his hands and face, he felt grateful for the fur covering most of his body.
But if I weren’t here in this god-forsaken place, I wouldn’t be cold at all, Alfred thought bitterly.