One year. He had been given one year until he would be married to Christa Stark, a princess from a kingdom so far from his home. He had know her since she was ten years old and yet he felt like he was about to be married to a stranger.
Christa had grown up to be an absolutely beautiful woman with the brains to match. Every time he saw her she seemed to have a certain glow about her. And even though she often lost him when it came to things about science, it was fascinating to listen to her speak about something she knew so much about.
He was sure that she would make a wonderful queen one day. But would Fenrir be the type of king she needed? That either of their kingdoms needed?
Even as a young boy he had been groomed to rule Jotunheim. He knew the castle with his eyes closed and had fought and trained with the very warriors that would serve him one day. He was smart in his own way as well. But as the years went by an anxiety grew in him that he didn’t think even his ancestors could help him.
In the beginning he had hated Christa. The first time he visited her castle he left feeling humiliated. She thought him a joke, that was clear. But eventually he accepted his fate and the hate turned into a distanced respect. This was a business transaction in his mind. There would be no love, he was sure.
After he came of age and effectively took his place as an Alpha, he thought he could share that with her. But she didn’t understand. She called him a monster. She was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. So he had distanced himself from her more, often skipping visits to the Stark castle and running off into the woods where she never dared to go when she was there.
That was when he met Damon, a beta in one of the wolf packs. To say he just fell in love with him would be an understatement. Damon was everything in a person that Fenrir wanted. He understood him and the things he did. They shared magic and their bond grew quickly.
Until Damon disappeared.
He seemed to leave without a single trace. No one could tell Fenrir anything, they were just as stumped. The prince fell into a depression that ruined him to the core. He began to drink just to dull his senses and neglect all of his duties. He didn’t care anymore, not about anything. Certainly not about marrying a princess that was much too good for him.
“I know that it hurts.” His father often began all his lectures like that. “And I know you want to wallow in this but you simply cannot. You are a prince, the heir to this throne and you will start acting like it. And it begins with your marriage.”
Fenrir looked awful. His skin was pale like he had a fever and his eyes were bloodshot with dark bags under them. He stood in front of his father a shell of the prince he used to be.
“Father, what do you expect me to do? Marry someone I don’t love and get on with life?”
“I have given you plenty of time to mourn. Now you must work. You have one year to prepare for your marriage. What you do with it is not up to me, so do what you please.”
That was just a few days ago. Already Fenrir had sobered up and cleaned himself up. He was dressed up in casual pants and shirt with a fur over his shoulders. At his desk he sketched on a paper. It was Damon, the subject of most of his art. This picture was on his wolf, an ashy gray beast with eyes that glowed in the moonlight. Fenrir fondly remembered running with him in the woods on the very last night they were together. His memory was cut short when someone knocked on his door.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Princess Christa has arrived my lord. She’s asking to see you.”
Normally he would order them to distract her for a while, only meeting her for a moment before she left.
“Fine, send her in.” The servant walked away to get her and he put away his art and tools. He looked around his room. It had only recently be cleaned, he had neglected it in his mourning and wouldn’t let anyone in. Now it was once again immaculate, like a prince should be. He couldn’t deny that it was refreshing.
He stood up when the door was opened and the younger royal stepped through. He bowed liked a good prince, holding it for a moment before standing straight again.
“Princess, it is good to see you. What brings you back to Jotunheim?”
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