[Dirthfall ^]
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Dirthfall stood tall in its gloom.
Louis had his dukedom memorised like a prayer and yet each time it seemed to shift as though nothing but a mystical illusion cast by a wizard. The trail was narrow as the carriage tremored with each step taken by the horses, and by the side was the sharp end of the cliffs, giving way to an abyss of dark and mist.
Louis could eye the tall tower of his castle peeking through the dense clouds of the mountains, the steep path finally nearing the bloom of the Crying Gods' Forest. Harry had fallen into a grave slumber two hours ago, his body resting against Louis' stiff frame.
Louis could not decipher what the omega wished for. For a moment he resented the air Louis breathed and then, as slumber coaxed him into unconsciousness, Louis was all he craved.
Louis attempted to push him away at the initial sense of Harry's heft on his shoulder but his attempt seemed futile when Harry snaked his arms around Louis', capturing him in a firm clutch, leaving him with a vehemently beating heart.
Louis had been the Duke of Dirthfall for a remarkable amount of time now, and he realised his return would only be welcomed by a ginormous crowd, especially given the knowledge that he was returning with his bride, the Duchess of Dirthfall.
It took them another hour of a tedious journey to finally reach the gates of the castle, of which half an hour had merely been stops being made for Louis to greet the dwellers of Dirthfall. The horses shrieked as the carriage halted for the final time.
Looking down, everything finally a tranquil silent, Louis eyed his omega sleeping on his shoulder, his cheeks squished against Louis' firm flesh. He looked rather youthful, a vision from the past that had a fire building inside Louis. He had only ever loved Harry, not known a life where he was not in love with him, and being aware that the omega hated him so passionately was a wound that ran deeper than Louis' sorrows.
"Your Royal Highness, we have arrived." Louis heard his steward speak through the shut door of their carriage, the chatter of chaos buzzing lightly. Louis inhaled firmly, knowing he had to wake Harry, knowing his precious was going to display his utmost displeasure.
"We will be joining you shortly, Remond," Louis answered back before facing Harry again, admiring the fleeting moments. He sighed, brushing some fierce strands of curls away from his serene face, his thumb caressing the bone of Harry's cheek by nature. "Prec--Harry, wake up."
Harry grumbled incoherently for a few moments until he settles to let go of Louis and slump down on the padded seating of the carriage. "Leave me inside, go ahead without me." He slurred in the haze of sleep.
"They are present here to welcome us," Louis sighed, pulling the omega up. "They are here to greet you as their Duchess and the future Queen."
"I asked for none of it." Harry fell against Louis' chest, and had it not been for Louis holding his body, Harry would have been on the hard floor of the carriage. "Why must you vex me with each opportunity you get."
"I am doing no such thing," Louis defended himself, pulling the omega to keep him upright as he placed a hand on the handle of the carriage, Harry's strong scent intoxicating. "Do not accuse me of foolish acts. Now waken yourself and behave."
"I do not serve you." The growl that left Harry's lips was sanguinary, tearing himself away from Louis with such force that Louis feared his precious had hurt himself. Albeit, he kept mum, watching Harry treat his touch akin to a disease. "Order me again and I shall slice that scheming tongue of yours."
"I was merely asking you to honour our agreement."
"I shall honour nothing that relates to you." As Harry left, the door being swung gratingly, Louis stood there with a hand on the hilt of his sword, finger continuously feeling the sharp edges of the ruby in it as he inhaled and exhaled sporadically, calming his rage.
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"It is splendid to have you back, Your Royal Highness. Especially now that you've brought along our Duchess." Louis stitched a smile to his lips as he pulled Harry closer to himself, smiling at his wisest counsellor who had been left in charge of the Castle in his absence. "Allow me to introduce myself, Princess," Sir Lionel crouched slightly as his firm hand held Harry's delicate one, his lips with a thick shadow of a grey moustache kissing the back of Harry's hand. "Sir Lionel Raynfyre of Stairkland, Your Royal Highness."
"Lovely to meet you, Sir Lionel, the Prince has sung many songs of your prodigious battles and your unquestionable loyalty. 'Tis a pleasure to finally come face to face with a hero such as yourself."
The knight smiled, red cheeks half-covered with his beard. He stood stiff like a rock, saying, "You will make an immaculate Queen one day."
Harry's silence was enough of a disagreement as Louis cleared his throat to fill in the wordlessness.
"We hope to retire to our chambers now, Sir Lionel. Do excuse us." Louis waited for no further words as he glided through the crowd of his council members with Harry in his arms. Harry remained voiceless until Louis was pushing the door to his chambers, feeling every eye on him as the servants passed them.
"You can let go of my arm now, we needn't convince anyone."
"Can't you at least pretend I mean something to you?" Louis begged, turning towards Harry. The sun had begun to set near the horizon as a soft wind flowed in through the balcony, touching Harry's curls.
"You are the thespian in this marriage, dearest husband, do not expect me to step into your filthy role." Harry laughed, walking towards the table near the bed, and pouring himself some wine as Louis stood in a defeated stance.
He had failed, hadn't he? He had done everything in his power to love Harry, to win him. Heaven knows he went as low as to conspire with his sister, an epitome of a snake, and yet he failed to make Harry realise how in love he was with him, how in love he always had been.
Exhaling with a tremor, Louis looked up at his omega with wet eyes, asking, "Do you truly hate me?"
Harry leaned against the wall as wordlessness fell again, the gilded rim of the goblet being pressed against his sanguine lips. He did not look Louis in the eyes, fixing them on the floor instead, the eve growing into an early twilight as Louis watched the moon hold her breath for Harry's answer.
"You nauseate me," he said finally, voice deep. "I would have rather been on a spike than in the chapel with you."
Louis counted his breaths. He had always done this, a little trick of the past that helped him into his future. His nerves fastened as breath vanished from his lungs. He looked up again, finding those malachite eyes on him.
Louis could not do it.
"I-I shall let you be, then," he whispered, penetrating his skin with the blunt edges of his nails, turning around. "I will have your maids a-arrange the Duchess's Chambers for you."
When he left -- perhaps an illusion -- he felt as though Harry was attempting to call out for him, that longing glance of his followed Louis until he left completely, running for the library.
Of all the places of the Castle he had known to be his for five summers, Louis had the deepest bond with the silence of his library. It was an unsaid rule that no soul was to enter the library other than Louis, and the thought of it had provided him with a sense of security of having a haven where he need not fear the judgements of the others.
It lay untouched as ever, quills on the deep mahogany desks resting atop unfinished pages that hold the words to Louis' life. He walked as he felt air spilling out of him, his chest heavy.
He stumbled, falling onto the wooden floor before he felt warm tears rolling down his icy skin.
Harry, he thought as he counted his breaths, Harry's words wounded him. He knew that the omega was entitled to feel the hatred he felt towards Louis, however, his blatant declaration of it pierced Louis' heart.
His entire being Louis had been asked not to pay much mind to what people had to think about him, for his judgement was all he ever required. But he had forever failed to fill in the shoes of a perfect prince, and then, a perfect heir.
It did bother him terribly when his mother could not distinguish between him and his cousin Arnald on his tenth nameday under the haze of wine. It did bother him when his father forthrightly prefered his sister's presence to his own. It bothered him when he watched families love each other while his own lived as though it were an agreement.
It did bother him when he had both of his parents alive and yet lived a life without the shadow of either of them.
It did bother him when the only person he ever truly loved felt nothing but hatred for him.
And he crushed under the weight of those, shivering as he cried, holding himself with pretence in the heart. He had felt like he did not have anyone and yet, now being married to the love of his life, Louis felt the most lonesome in his entirety.
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Louis slipped through the colossal door to his chambers, mindful of the servants. He had not caught a blink of sleep, eyes burning as he walked out of the darkness of the library and into the faint murmurs of the awakening castle.
"Where were you?" Louis jumped a little at the intrusion of the voice, turning towards the sound of it to find his precious sitting by the balcony. Harry was in a pale gown, his eyes still tired as he sipped a cup of tea. Louis halted, taking in the set table in their chambers, myriad of eatables laid out like a painting.
"Giving you what you wished for." Louis did not bother halting again as he walked to his chest and pulled out a loose tunic, replacing his night's shirt with it. "You can request whatever you desire and you shall be provided with that. I won't be bothering you any further." Louis rushed towards the table and grabbed a glazed, lemon cake, feeling Harry's sharp gaze on him.
"Were you crying?" Harry asked just as Louis turned around, eager to leave. He gulped, shaking his head before taking another step. "Wait," Harry rushed out.
"If you are about to declare your unending hatred for me, I fear I have quite a lot of work." The air was heavy, and Louis felt the uneasiness completely. There was a shuffle, and then there he was, standing in front of Louis with an unreadable face.
"I know you did not sleep here. Where were you?"
"I presumed you wished to do nothing with my existence? Why this interrogation then?" Louis said in retaliation, looking away. He did not need to fall in love with the way Harry's hair turned golden against the rays of the sun, or with his sleep-touched eyes trying to wake. "Did they not arrange your chamber?"
The omega stood there with his lips parted, searching for words as Louis took a bite of the cake. "They did," he said, blinking slowly. Louis did not understand what it was that the omega was getting at. "Well, we did agree we would display a joyous marriage in front of the people. That entails you dining with me for the meals and not walking into the chambers at this hour."
"Aren't you one to talk of an agreement," Louis mocked. He felt Harry's scent turn sour. He sighed, turning to his omega. "I understand our marriage was not what you wished for, and the consequences under which it happened; worse. I won't force you into any more arrangements. If you wish to stay out of this marriage completely, you shall have it like that."
"What is this? Another scheme of yours?"
"I am giving you a choice here, Harry," Louis growled, unable to stand Harry's ever-spiteful tone. "None of the dukes you would have married would ask twice before putting their pups in you the first night of your marriage."
"Is this it, then? You are going to throw me away like a toy you no longer desire for?" Louis breathed out his fury. What was Harry trying to imply? One moment he wished nothing to do with Louis and the next he was cross with being given a choice.
"What is that you wish for?!" Louis cried out alas. "I have attempted to love you. I have attempted to save you. Now I give you the liberty to do as you wish, and somehow I fail at every turn. Tell me, what do you need from me?"
Louis watched as Harry remained wordless, scrutinising him with his malachite eyes. Louis had nothing more to give him. Was it his title? He'd gladly give it up. Apart from that, he had none to his name that he could offer Harry.
"Why don't you give me a tour?" Harry said finally, looping an arm with Louis.
"May I beg your pardon?"
"A tour," Harry repeated. "I wish for a tour of the place I will be spending my life in."
"Won't you rather someone else give you one?" Louis asked, unable to decipher what Harry's intentions were.
"No, you are my husband, the Duke of Dirthfall. I do not wish for people to think of me as an omega who could not handle a day of marriage. To the world we must remain a subject for the songs of love that will bloom in the future, no matter the reality behind the walls."
"You are aware that it entails you being a Duchess, are you not?" Harry merely spared Louis a glance as he stepped outside their chambers. "You will be needed to look after the dukedom too."
"Do not take me for a fool," Harry whispered into Louis' ears before smiling at one of the councilmen passing them. "I am aware of what I am thrusting myself into. Now, show me where the gardens are, dearest. I do hope you aren't growing any Serpent's Dreams there."
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