Consummation

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Fire and ice swept through Tom's veins: a burning passion and blazing joy sizzling with the striking bite of the cold, bitter hate. His feet were frozen to the ground until suddenly a burst of heat freed them, and he rocketed toward the door. He sped down the halls, ripping past servants and guards who all turned their heads as the short gust of wind blew by. Sam couldn't keep up with him. He was always several leaps and bounds behind this prince turned madman.

New guards were at the doors of the dungeon. Sam's face grew hot with tears as he watched Tom go at them, struggling desperately. They were put there by Harry, no doubt. "Guards let him pass!"

"Orders from Prince Harry, he shall not pass and you shall not interfere." The guard replied, still handling Tom, who was screaming at the top of his lungs and clawing to get through the sturdy pair of guards.

Sam finally lost all sense of formality. "You bloody idiots! Get the fuck out of his way!" He charged them as well, but one of them quickly whistled for help. Three more guards came to assist, and unfortunately for our heroes, they were both contained. A copious amount of curses flew from their mouths at the guards before they noticed their father standing by.

"Are you quite finished, boys?" He said without affection.

"Fuck." Sam muttered.

"Sam, relay to me why you attacked your brother and aided the prisoners—"

"Harry was trying to kill Tom's child—he ordered the medic to give Beth a poison—that shouldn't happen—" Sam's words flew in a sharp, panicked flurry.

The king weakened, as if a spear had run him through. "Ch—child?"

"Father...please..." Tom cried, the words slurring with his sobs.

He recomposed himself, and went to his son. He lifted his chin, looking into Tom's pleading eyes. Abruptly, he slapped him across the face. "I had much higher hopes for you." He hissed. He stood firmly and turned to the guards. "Ready a room for their ceremony and a ship."

Tom melted to the ground, the coolness of the floor numbing one side of his face while the sting of the blow burned the other. He couldn't speak.

"Guards, gather my sons and take them to the wedding once the room and prisoners are ready." The king ordered coldly, walking away without turning back to see his son crumble.

Not long after, the royal family including Zendaya as well as many guards were gathered in a small, unlavish bedchamber. Two guards held fast to Tom, who was constantly trying to jerk himself free while another two guards contained a squirming Sam. A priest entered the room with two more guards leading in Harrison and Beth. All was dead silent, until he saw her.

"Beth—" Tom squeaked before the guard covered his mouth.

"Guard, don't cover his mouth so—" The queen protested.

"He must remain silent!" The king snapped before refocusing on the priest.

Beth zoned out as the priest began to speak the ceremonial text. She imagined her wedding to be full of life: her beautiful backyard, a simple, yet perfect gown fit for a princess in its own way, gorgeous flowers and her family surrounding her. She always dreamed her life would be a perfect fantasy that she created for herself. She felt the presence of her child and then looked into Harrison's striking eyes full of fearful hope.

Harrison sighed deeply, Tom's muffled cries breaking his heart. He took her hands. "I, Harrison, promise to take this woman to be my lawful wife, under the eyes of God, 'til death do we part."

"And you accept?" The priest asked Beth flatly.

Tears fell down her cheeks in hot streams. "I do."

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride." The priest said happily, closing his book.

Harrison looked over at Tom, who was trying to stand although his knees were visibly buckling. He stared too long, for the king soon grew impatient.

"Pay him no mind Harrison. Kiss her. And then bed her." He commanded.

"Bed her—" His voice caught in his throat.

"But of course, every wedding needs a consummation. What do you think the bed is for?" King Dominic snickered, followed by a light laugh from Zendaya.

"Your Majesty please—" Harrison started.

"You heard him! Get on with it. And at least try to act enthusiastic." Zendaya sneered. She was beginning to tire of their stalling. "Of course you don't have to if you don't want to. There's always the gallows—"

"Fine! Fine..." Harrison retreated, trapped without any options and no escape. He looked over to Tom again, who had composed himself a bit. He nodded slightly, his eyes flashing him a message: Do what you need to survive.

He took Beth in his arms, feeling almost dirty like she was something he was never supposed to touch in this manner. He hesitantly pressed his lips to hers, his stomach wringing with nerves. He tried to go into another place, but he couldn't seem to get his feet off the ground. He couldn't be anywhere else but in this devastating moment. He deepened the kiss, becoming more and more despondent as he brought her to the bed.

Beth felt like she was out of her body. She was just watching herself and Harrison from above. She tried to focus on colors: the creamy eggshell curtains, the mahogany bed frame, the rich red of the bedcovers, the intricate pattern of the rug. No matter how much color she filled her mind with, and no matter how much noise there was, all she could hear and focus on was Tom. He was trying to stay strong and silent, his face stern and hard, but even the quietest sniffle sounded as loud as a ringing bell in her ears.

She tried closing her eyes, but then the sensations inside her were no longer the furthest from her mind. All she could do was feel. She thought of those nights spent with Tom in her cottage. She thought not only of how he felt but also how wonderful he was to be around. They never needed a bed to have good company with one another; they could talk for hours or even sit in silence. They grew so close so quickly that their separation was almost violent, like forcefully ripping a tight seam. And now a new seam had been forcefully sewn together. She was now bound to Harrison, and it could never be undone.

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