offireandice

[offireandice]

Chapter 3

Table of Contents

Your chambers seemed quite nice, there was a substantial fireplace on the right wall with an armchair and chaise sitting in front of it, and a large, comfortable-looking bed across from you situated between two windows.  You could see two doors, presumably leading to your closet and bathroom.

You didn’t have much to do in your room while you waited for dinner.  You had no unpacking left to be done, and admittedly you were a bit too agitated to read any of the books that were on your bookshelf.  Luckily you did see that there were books there that you hadn’t brought, so surely it was still appropriate in this strange culture for a woman to read.  

You were sitting in the armchair by the fire, finally warming up after your brief stint outside, when three short knocks sounded at your door.  You walked over and opened it to find Technoblade, still adorned with armour and that terrible mask.  

“…It’s time for dinner,” He said.  No shit. 

“Of course,”  You smiled a bit, no reason to be rude, after all. “We will be dining with the entire royal family?”  You asked as you stepped out of your room.  You noticed with relief that he brought Puffy again.  

“Yes, an’ Philza, he’s the guy with the wings that was part of your welcoming party,”  The man with the large metal device strapped to his back? They were mechanical wings?  How extraordinary!

“I see.  What is his connection to your family?”

“He’s the first advisor to my father, an’ he also trained me an’ my brothers.  I imagine I’ll be able to talk him into trainin’ you too, even though he’s practically retired,”

“That really isn’t necessary, I feel perfectly comfortable without,”

“This isn’t up for discussion, princess,”  He left his stubborn reply hanging in the air.  Now you felt the awkward silence, but it’s not like you could continue with this topic, you didn’t want to aggravate him…

“Um – our voyage was unexpectedly pleasant; it was sunny for it’s entirety,”  You stuttered a bit before picking a topic.  Really, the weather?

“Really? you must have been out on the deck for most of it then,”

“I – I’m afraid not, I tend to get quite seasick.”  You felt yourself searching again for a decent reply,  “Do you find yourself travelling often?”

“Yeah, I travel with our military a lot, an’ my father takes us out on an annual tour of the empire, to make sure everythin’ is runnin’ well,”

“That sounds lovely.” There.  That was a wonderful natural end to the conversation, you could walk in peace now.  Except suddenly his hand was on your arm again, and he was pulling you to stop in the middle of the hall –

“Are – am I – are you unhappy with this arrangement?”  He asked, seemingly genuine.  

“I think this alliance is extremely beneficial to both of our countries, and I could not ask for anything more from my marriage,”  You answered truthfully.  It mattered not who you were married to, you would never feel glad about such shackles binding you to a person and place for all eternity.  Even Mr. Boar Skull couldn’t make it worse, and the most handsome, charismatic man in the world wouldn’t make it better.  He started to speak again,

“I want our marriage to be as happy for us as this alliance will make our countries.  Tell me how I can do that,”  You blanched.  There was no way to make this happy for you, not truly.  All you could think to say was -

“I don’t have the same goal,”  

He let go of your arm, and though you felt the absence of his warmth, you felt freer.  He turned and continued walking, as if nothing happened. Neither of you bothered to try to continue the conversation on your way to the dining room.  

-

The dinner party was relatively small, you and your parents were the only guests.  Your mother would have insisted on a grand group if another royal family was visiting, but then again, everything seemed different here. The entertainment at the table mostly consisted of pleasantries between the older adults, and boyish banter between your fiancé’s two brothers.  You mostly listened to the former conversation, but every so often the brothers caught your attention.  They seemed to be covering a wide range of topics, everything from anteaters to the sex appeal of the Queen of England.  Overall, they seemed a bit odd, although every comment from them was hilarious. Unfortunately, your fiancé was even odder.  He left his mask on at the table and fed himself through it.  There appeared to be a gap centred on the underside of the jaw, out of eyesight, where the throat would have connected to the boar’s mouth, to accommodate this.  Eventually you were addressed by the adults as they began to detail your agenda and responsibilities for the week leading up to the wedding.  

“You should attend our final discussion of the connection of our countries tomorrow,” Your mother said, referring to both you and Technoblade “We want to make sure it’s all finalized before the marriage actually takes place, and you should know exactly what our people will be receiving because of you.”  Everyone nods in agreement.

“I believe there has been a tutor arranged to ensure that you assimilate gracefully into the Antarctic culture, is that correct?”  She asked, looking between the Emperor and Philza.

“Yes.”  Philza leaned forward slightly in his seat, “I’ve arranged one of our royal tutors to catch the princess up on our history, the lifestyle of our people, and the empire’s political and economical composition. The sessions will be quiet information dense; we want to make sure she is adequately prepared to be one of our next leaders before her marriage, even though she won’t be immediately taking the throne.”  He took a breath before continuing. “I will also be holding a number of personal meetings with the princess this week to discuss what role the empress is expected to play here, as I was originally the personal advisor to the late empress.”

Again, everyone was nodding like bobbleheads.  Except Tommy, who seemed to be subtly arranging some of his food into a hidden message to show Technoblade.  No one seemed to notice except the three of you.  Technoblade seemed to look at you from behind his mask when he noticed you were paying attention, but you averted your eyes.  

Suddenly, he spoke,

“Philza, I think it would also be a good idea for you to train her in combat too.  She said she doesn’t even have personal defense experience.” You wanted to slam your head against the dining table, but you kept your composure.  Instead, you looked pleadingly to your parents, surely they would speak out against such impropriety?  But before they could say anything, Philza was agreeing that “it should be of utmost priority”.  Fuck. They were all in on it then, and there would be no preventing it as far as you could see.  

After a moment, the attention was back on the Emperor as he cleared his throat.  

“Well princess, it seems that your schedule is quite tightly booked.  But I’m sure we can ensure that you get at least two hours of personal time every morning after breakfast.  I highly recommend that you start to acquaint yourself with the layout of the palace in that time.”  He smiled warmly before your mother started to discuss the details of the wedding plans, which you were sure you all knew by heart now.  Evening ceremony in the palace gardens, ensuring traditions from both cultures were represented, etc etc.  Finally the Emperor rose from the table, dismissing everyone from their seats. Good evenings were said, and then you were being escorted by Technoblade (with Puffy trailing as a chaperone, of course) back to your chambers.  His hand softly rested in-between your shoulder blades to guide you, but he dropped it to his side when he felt you tense up at the contact.  

You had tried to avoid looking at him at his spot across the table from you for all of dinner and had successfully prevented any chatting in that time.  But now the two of you were practically alone.  

“So, princess,”  He started,  “Did you like dinner?”

“Yes, I found it to be very satisfying,”

“That’s good.”  He awkwardly bobbed his head in the silence. You guessed you should probably say something.

“Tell me about your childhood.  Are you and your brothers quite close?”

“Yeah, Wilbur, Tommy an’ I spent all our time together when we were younger.  We had the same tutors, an’ it wasn’t until Wilbur an’ I started travelling with our father that we were ever apart.  Tommy was still too young to be going out to battles an’ learning how to make decisions as a leader.  It was only last year that he was old enough to duel me an’ Wilbur for succession,”

“Oh? You and Wilbur are both battle-hardened then?”  

“Yeah, uh, our father believes its integral to our Empire’s success for anyone that can ascend to the throne to have as much experience in the art of ruling our people as possible. Wilbur and I have both led some minor attacks and battles against South Africa.  What was your life back in Argentina like, princess?”

“I spent most of my youth bound by the walls of our palace, my mother hates travelling and so I rarely got to see new horizons.  My parents believe that education is extremely important, and I spent much of my time in our library learning whatever I could to pass the time,”  You paused briefly “I had requested permission to join a convent, so that I may continue my studies without concern for stately responsibilities, but my mother refused,”

“I see.  Why’d your mother say no?”

“I am too valuable of a bargaining chip for my country.  The only princess, right?”  You smiled to try and lighten the mood.  Hopefully he didn’t see how hollow your expression was.  

“Uh… I’m sorry to hear that, princess.”  He paused, “…is that part of why you don’t foresee yourself being happy here?”

You were a little bit taken aback… how could you explain to him that your cold feelings weren’t towards Antarctica, but towards your impending marriage?  

“Yes… But I believe I will enjoy living here.  My distaste for the future lies more in what may be expected of me, both in interpersonal matters and in matters of the state,”

He nodded his head, and you somehow knew that he caught the meaning between your words.  Although he was no wordsmith, you were pleased to see that your fiancé was rather intelligent.

The last few steps down the hall to your chambers were made in silence, broken only by goodnights from both of you.  After your door had separated you, you started to reflect on your first day in your new home.  It was hard to believe it had only been a day, you felt as though enough had happened to fill two chapters of a book.  

You were still struck by the differences between the Antarctic Empire’s culture and that of Argentina.  And the appearance of your fiancé, although you hadn’t even seen his face yet.  At least behind that horrifying mask, he seemed nice enough.  You almost felt bad for how cold his first impression of you must have been, when he had been nothing but kind and attentive, if a bit awkward. But that kind of behaviour from him probably wouldn’t last past the honeymoon, if all the other courtly marriages you had seen were anything to judge by.  

#of fire and ice #c!technoblade x reader #c!technoblade imagine #technoblade x reader #technoblade imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine

[offireandice]

Chapter 2

Table of Contents

The day of your departure was shockingly calm.  Somehow, everything went to plan, and shortly after being awoken and dressed, you and your parents were boarding the carriage that would take you to the harbour.  Your trunks had been sent down the night before.

“I cannot believe it only takes three days to sail to Antarctica now!  It’s incredible how much more efficient the newer ships are,” your mother exclaimed.  

“The ships of the Antarctic Empire are even more advanced, I’ve received correspondence that their fastest warships are powered by steam engines rather than wind.  We will have a lot of catching up to do now that we will be freely exchanging technology.  Their scientists are kilometers ahead of ours,” Your father responded.  He had always been interested in science, and fostered your interest in it as well.  While your kingdom was still steeped in old-fashioned traditions, his reign had brought about some scientific progress.  

“Well, our ships are still fast, I’m sure we could go toe to toe with most other countries any day,”

“Not likely, despite how much we’ve improved, many countries are far ahead of us.  It will be extremely beneficial to have the assistance of the Antarctic Empire if, God forbid, we become engaged in a war in the near future,”

“Fine, I guess I’m just stupid then, you got me!”  Your mother pointedly turned to look out the window after her huffy outburst.  This would be a long carriage ride, let alone voyage.

The ship, Bijou de Argentina III, cast off shortly after you boarded.  Unfortunately your stomach did not agree with the rolling waves of the open ocean, so the voyage would be mostly a blur for you.  Your mother was also not faring well, so at least you didn’t have a headache accompanying your nausea.  

The three days at sea were relatively uneventful, the weather was as expected, sunny but progressively colder as you got closer to your destination.  Finally, on the evening of the third day, the glowing shore of King George Island, the capital of the Antarctic Empire, came into view.

The Bijou de Argentina III was docked shortly, and you and your parents were ashore right on schedule.  Two coaches had been sent down from the palace to retrieve your family and the luggage. They were spectacular, both you and your father were instantly enamoured.  It was a self-powered carriage, no horses required!  It must be steam-powered.  You had only ever heard of such a thing in a scientific journal, and only this year!  

Your eyes were wide as you looked out the window of the coach during the short drive to the palace; trying to take in everything at once was like sensory overload.  The palace sprawled across the tallest point of the island.  It was massive enough that you had been able to see it from the docks of the harbour. But the rest of the island was covered with an immense city, dark buildings towered high above the streets, most light only being provided from their small windows.  You could barely see the sky if you were standing on the sidewalk. It was opposite to everything you’d ever known in Argentina, where even the capital was just a small agricultural centre with a palace by the sea.  The only similarity was the bustling streets, vendors shouting from every corner and alley, trying to get a sale from passers-by.  But these people were so warmly dressed, lumpy pillars of dull grey wool, unlike the light, colourful cottons and linens that walked the streets in Argentina.  

“Its so cold here, you’ll need a whole new wardrobe.  Our winter clothes are barely warm enough for this night, and it’s the middle of summer!” Your mother exclaimed, as if one wouldn’t expect Antarctica to be a distinct change from the balmy weather in Argentina.  You only nodded, barely glancing away from the window at her.  Hopefully she would just assume you were tired and reserving your energy for meeting the Antarctic royal family.

Finally, the coach caravan entered the gates of the royal palace.  It felt as cold and dark and lifeless as you’d always expected the heart of Antarctica to be. The palace was composed primarily of dark concrete and bricks, with only few small windows, all capped with steep pointed metal roofs.  It occurred to you that the small windows in every building you’d seen so far must be to minimize thermodynamic heat loss, as the glass would be less insulating than the walls of the buildings.  The drivers continued on for another few minutes, getting to the heart of the royal compound.  You idly think that such a sprawling palace was an excellent defensible point, but the coaches stop before your mind can wander further. Unfortunately your window faced opposite the main entrance that you assumed the royal family would be standing at, so you would have to wait until you stepped out to see your fiancé and future family.  

The cold air shocked you when the door was opened, the coach must be heated and you hadn’t noticed it during the drive.  Your parents stepped down out of the coach before you, and your father extended his hand to help you down.  The breath left your lungs at the sight of the royal family.

Firstly, they were all oddly tall, and all of them were dressed in a combination of dark grey metal armour and royal garb.  You had never seen a royal dressed in armour away from the battlefield.  There were five men, and one woman standing slightly apart from them, whom you assumed must be a guard from the full set of armour she was wearing.  The tallest man had brown curly hair and spectacles and was rather handsome.  He stood next to one of the most horrifying creatures you had ever seen.  It must be a man, but he had a giant boar skull strapped to his head, with glowing red glass in its eye sockets.  His shoulders sloped awkwardly, something you never saw in people of good breeding.  His body was strangely proportioned, and you thought that he could be like Frankenstein’s monster – assembled from many different bodies rather than growing into his own.  Altogether, his appearance was jarring compared to the other people present.  On his other side stood the man that you could only assume was the king.  He was a rather typical looking man, medium brown hair, strong build, and a regal stance.  You felt that you could quickly respect this man, especially if his manner followed the calm wise expression of his eyes.  Next to him stood another anomalous man, again older looking.  He was the shortest by far, and lacked the family resemblance of the others (whose faces you could see).  He had long, straw-yellow hair.  But the true strangeness of him lied in the giant mechanical device strapped to him.  It appeared to be made of a dark steel, and while it was only attached at the shoulders and back, it extended in length from his head to the  ground.  Your eye was torn away from studying the device further due to some violent fidgeting from the tall, but quite young-looking, blonde at the other end of the line-up. He was next to the brunet who had first caught your attention, and there was something about the twinkle in the blond’s eyes that screamed mischief, and that was only corroborated by the way he was the only one present who couldn’t stand still for even the short moment that you had taken everyone in.  The man that you assumed was the king started to speak,

“Welcome, Royal Family of Argentina! I am the Emperor of Antarctica,” – Emperor, right – “and I am delighted to present my three sons,” he paused, and the brunet, blond boy, and the one with the boar skull stepped forward.  Great, you had a one in three chance of being attached to him for the rest of your life.  “the eldest, Prince Wilbur, the next in line to the throne, Technoblade, and my youngest, Tommy,”  He finished with a loving smile, lines around his eyes crinkling.  Each of them had bowed in turn when introduced.  

You would be known as the woman married to the man with a boar skull.  You weren’t even listening as your parents exchanged civilities and presented you.  Your smile as you curtsied must have been hollow.  You tuned in again to hear the king – wait, emperor – speak again,

“You must be quite cold, this is a big change from the climate of Argentina.  Please, let’s head inside to get further acquainted.”  He turned and started to lead the way into the grand metal doors you had all been standing at the step of.  It took two servants to open each of the double doors for the royal party.  The king – no, emperor – you shook your head to try and get the correction cemented in this time, but unfortunately made eye contact with the female guard trailing the group.  She gave you a questioning look from under her helmet.  While you were marinating in your mortification, the emperor continued to talk,

“My sons will show you to your rooms, and then we’ll reconvene in an hour to have a late supper. I’ll ensure that someone escorts you all to the dining room from your quarters.”  As he finished, the princes stepped forward, and for the first time you heard your fiancé speak,

“I’ll take the princess to her rooms, an’ Wilbur an’ Tommy can escort the King an’ Queen.”  He nodded to each of you respectively.  You noticed that his voice, though muffled slightly by the skull, was deep, and almost raspy.  As you broke off into your groups, and the emperor left to go do emperor things, you realized with some mortification that it seemed like you and Technoblade would be left alone.  How could this be happening?  This would be the makings of a scandal in the Argentinian court.  

“Excuse me, are we not to be chaperoned?”  You rather meekly asked as the others left.  

“Oh, if it would make you more comfortable, Puffy can walk with us,”  He responded, and motioned for the female guard to follow you rather than your parents and the brothers.  “She’s the head of the royal guard, an’ the best warrior our empire has ever trained. Wilbur an’ I used to spar with her when we were all kids,”

You only nodded in response. You knew you were being rude, but you simply couldn’t think of anything to say.  It appeared that he felt the awkward silence, and he started to speak again,

“D’you have any trainin’ in combat?”  He asked. You started, and for the first time you looked at him in the glowing eye of the skull.  

“No! Of course not, that would be entirely improper in the Argentinian court.  Or any court that I have visited, for that matter,”

“Well, you’re in the Antarctic empire now, an’ you’ll have to get trained a bit, for self defense.” He remained remarkably calm in the face of your sudden outburst, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. But you weren’t about to budge on this point.

“I think not, I expect to have a guard on hand when needed, so I see no reason to train in self defense. Let us not dwell on such a strange thought,”

“I think it’s more strange to not have self defense trainin’.  What if somethin’ happens? You don’t care about bein’ able to protect yourself?”

“I cannot think of anything happening where my receiving training would make any difference,” You huffed, feeling more and more frustrated with every sentence in this conversation.  You desperately searched for a new subject,  “Why are you in line for the throne instead of your older brother?  I’ve not heard of such a situation happening in any other countries,”

“You’ll be gettin’ trained in self defense, you can’t deter me from that,” - You couldn’t believe he was so dead-set on you receiving training.  Perhaps you could figure out some excuse to avoid it later - “And in the Antarctic empire, succession is determined by duals.  I bested Wilbur in our dual, an’ he bested Tommy. Barely.”  He chuckled.  

“I see, with such a focus on combat skills in even the royal family, it’s no wonder that your country is known to have one of the best militaries in the world,”

“The best military in the world, you’ll be safer here than anywhere else, princess,”  He paused, and you noticed that the two of you (plus… Puffy, right, that was her name) were starting to slow your paces. Technoblade reached forward and opened one of the many doors off the hall for you, and spoke again, “These are your chambers, an’ as you can see your luggage has already been unpacked. Unfortunately, we don’t have a handmaiden for you yet, the woman we originally assigned to you was fired this mornin’ for misconduct.  We’ll find one for you shortly, though, don’t worry.  An’ I think that’s everythin’, I’ll come an’ get you in a bit for dinner,”

“Thank you, Prince Technoblade,”  You started to curtsy, but suddenly his hand was gently gripping your upper arm to pull you out of your curtsy.  

“You can call me Techno, an’ there’s no need for any of that ceremony.  We’ll be married in just a week you know,”  He said, and his tone was markedly softer than before, even as you gently pulled your arm out of his grasp.  His hand was large enough that it nearly wrapped the whole way around your bicep, and it was almost still stretched towards you, as if already missing the contact.  You wondered what expression he was wearing under that mask.  

#of fire and ice #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade imagine #c!technoblade imagine #mcyt imagine

[offireandice]

Author’s Note

Firstly, I would like to say that this book is total self service, this is my fantasy, and the reader might as well be a self insert for me. No, I will not take criticism on that.

TL;DR: pairing - cisgendered female reader x c!technoblade. this is based on dsmp characters, not streamers. the world for this fic is unfortunately eurocentric. No update schedule is planned

Secondly, the reader is essentially written as a cis woman. I wasn't able to keep it gender neutral and have a plot that made sense and still hit upon every point that I had in mind. Reader's home kingdom is approximately Argentina.

Unfortunately Argentina and New Zealand are both colonial countries, but for the sake of this book we will assume that in this timeline no colonialism happened, and instead there had been a mutual sharing of ideas around the world, which has lead to every country having a unique identity while still feeling familiar to me, an English speaking Canadian. I did try my best to find information on the indigenous peoples of Argentina and New Zealand, as well as the indigenous peoples of neighboring areas, in an effort to keep their cultures closer to what they would have been if colonialism had not happened. The culture of the world still feels very euro centric though, and my apologies for that.

Finally, please assume that everyone in this series will be acting out of character, they are my puppets and I control the show. Also all of the characters are based off of the smp characters, not the streamers.

There will be no update schedule for this book. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy :D

[offireandice]

Chapter 1

Warnings:  Fatshaming, verbal abuse, toxic mother figure, I think that’s it.  also architectural descriptions, sorry about that but i just had to. 

Table of Contents

Normally, if someone wanted to find you, the first place they would look is the palace library.  You had always loved learning and reading, as there wasn’t much else for the crown princess of a wealthy country to do.  For you, there was nothing better than to completely lose yourself in a book, or in a new topic, and become completely disengaged with reality -

“Mademoiselle, the King and Queen have requested your presence.” You jumped as your father’s butler, stepped through the doorway.  

“Oh! Thank you, Harold, you may tell them that I shall be in the throne room promptly,” you replied, standing and straightening out your dress.  Harold nodded and left the room.  You would have walked with him, except that you wanted to avoid seeing your parents for as long as possible.  Luckily for you, the library was a few minutes’ walk from the throne room.  

As you put your books back onto the shelves and left the library, you reflected on what your parents might want.  Perhaps your family would be going on a tour of the kingdom this spring to engage with the people?  That could be quite fun, especially going up to the northern plains. Or perhaps they had decided to agree to your request to join one of the convents in Patagonia?  Unlikely, but you could dream.  

You bowed your head and curtsied to your parents as you stepped through the grand archway into the throne room.  Since you had developed an interest in architecture when you were fourteen, you knew that this arch, as well as the rest of the palace, was designed in a combination of baroque and rococo style.  With Incan influence, of course.  Although the Incan Empire had been threating yours for centuries, your cultures were still intertwined.  Your mind came back down to earth as you made eye contact with your parents.  Your mother was faintly smiling, but your father was completely expressionless. Probably not a tour then, as your mother hated travelling.  

“Good morning, dear, we have some very exciting news for you,” your mother started, her smile growing a hair wider.

“Oh?” you questioned.  You would be interested - this could be the permission to join a convent that you had been waiting for - except that the expression on your mother’s face had made your stomach start to sink.  

“We have finally made arrangements for your betrothal!” Your mother’s face broke out into a toothy smile, although you couldn’t exactly match her enthusiasm.  As an only child, you had always known you would be married off, yet you still couldn’t accept it.  You would have no close family to take care of you once your parents were gone since your eldest male cousin would be succeeding the throne, as was tradition, and you were a valuable bargaining chip as the only princess to your kingdom. However, you had always thought becoming a nun would suit you best, and it would certainly be a more peaceful existence than that of a future queen.  You feel as though the older you get, the more you desire to let go of your responsibilities.  

But clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

“I see, that is exciting,” you say, putting on your most diplomatic simper.  “To whom shall I be wed?”

“The crown prince of Antarctica, I believe his name is Technoblade.  It should be a very beneficial alliance, in return for priority on our agricultural exports, we will get an incredibly strong military ally.  And they are just off our southeastern coast, they could hardly be closer.” Your mother finished her explanation with an excited clap of her hands.  Your father, normally silent and stoic, also started to speak,

“The wedding is planned for a month from now. We will all leave for Antarctica in a fortnight, and the voyage will take approximately three days,”

“Thank you, your majesties, I am honored to be of service to my kingdom.  When will I be required for the necessary dress fittings?  And is there anything else you will require of me for the preparations?”  You hoped there wasn’t anything else, the less involved you must be the better. Your mother would probably want to control the planning for the entire event anyways, especially as it would be the biggest event of the next ten years for your kingdom.  She would never be able to keep her fingers out of such a sweet pie.

“No, there will be nothing else, I shall handle everything.  I expect the tailors will want to see you next week, they will forward the details to you,” your mother said.  “That will be all, you are dismissed.”

You turned to leave, mind already racing with how to make the most of this last week of freedom.  The wedding dress would probably occupy the remainder of your time in your home…

“Wait,” your father interrupted your departure, and you turned back to look at him.  “Congratulations, I wish you all the best,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you, father,” you responded, cracking your own small smile.  

You finally exited the throne room and decided to go the gardens instead of the library.  If you were to be the princess of Antarctica, it would probably be best to enjoy the lush foliage and warm climate of your home for as long as you had left.  It would be difficult to adjust to a life in the snow and ice.  Although it would be even more difficult to adjust to married life. You hoped that your husband wouldn’t be too cruel, perhaps he might even be tolerable.  No matter.  You would be able to handle everything he could possibly throw at you with elegance and composure, just as you were raised.  Your parents had impressed upon you at an early age that diplomacy was much more powerful than any sword.  

Your naked ring finger caught your eye as your hands brushed over the flowers lining the path.  What would it be like to wear a ring for the rest of your life?  A single piece of jewelry binding you to a lifelong contract.  That’s really all marriage was, at least for any nobility you had ever met.  There was never any love involved.  

-

Your last week of freedom passed much too quickly for your liking.  You had been building up the first dress fitting as the end of your life as you knew it, and now that it was finally here, you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You were disappointed at how little this would matter in the grand scheme of your life, and in everyone else’s life.  No matter how this dress fitting went, you would still be getting married.  It was probably the most insignificant part of the process.  And yet, as soon as your corset was laced and the pattern dress was pulled up your body, you felt as if the entire planet was sitting on your chest.  But no one noticed.

By the time the seamstress was just over halfway done pining the dress and making the first adjustments, your mother’s presence was announced by her handmaiden.  Your muscles became even more tense than they were before, which you wouldn’t have even thought possible.  You hated when your mother attended your dress fittings.

“Make sure that neckline doesn’t migrate too low, we wouldn’t want our princess to make a poor first impression on her new court,” your mother nagged, practically before she had even entered the room.  “Is that really the smallest your waist can look? Don’t forget, you will only have to wear this dress once, you should be as tightly laced as possible.”

“Madame, we do not want her to faint while walking down the aisle, I imagine that would also leave a negative impression on the Antarctians,” the seamstress responded, barely biting back her tone to remain friendly. She was new, but it seemed she wouldn’t last.  Anyone that refused to make you tight lace seemed to be dismissed rather quickly. Even you had learned to accept it without complaint.  

“I do not think I am making myself clear enough, Charlotte,” your mother started.  Right, the seamstress’s name was Charlotte.  You may have zoned out a bit when she introduced herself.  “You must tight lace the princess for this dress, it is essential that the Antarctic King does not feel that his son has been given a fat, lazy bride.”

“I see, your majesty.  Thank you for your input,” Charlotte moved up from pining the hem of your skirt in order to unclasp the buttons down your back.  She would have to take the pattern dress off in order to retighten your corset.  How exciting, this fitting was going to last even longer than you anticipated.  

The rest of the fitting was more of the same.  You let your mother’s comments roll off your back, you were used to them by now, and Charlotte did her best to make sure your wedding dress wouldn’t be the cause of your death.  Once Charlotte was done fitting the pattern dress, her and your mother moved on to look at the different samples of fabric.  It was all beautiful laces and silks and velvets, ranging from the coldest of whites to soft pinks.  

You hid in your mind for most of the time they discussed the fabric selections.  Every so often Charlotte would ask you a question, and your mother would answer for you. You were only staying out of propriety, as you knew your mother would prefer if your dress was made to her specifications.  Once your mother was satisfied, she left you and Charlotte alone, presumably to move onto a new area of planning for your wedding.  

“Mademoiselle, would you prefer if I left the dress sized for tight lacing?  Or should we revisit the sizing of the bodice?” Charlotte asked once your mother was out the door and down the hall.  

“It would be best if we left it, my mother would be furious if we changed something without her permission.  Thank you though, Charlotte, I appreciate your concern,”

“De rien, mademoiselle.  Will you be able to return tomorrow for your second fitting?  I expect that with such a short time frame, it would be well-advised to move as quickly as we can,”

“I would agree, and yes, I am at your disposal tomorrow and for the remainder of my time here,”

“Excellent, merci, mademoiselle,” Charlotte said, and then hesitated. “I hope I am not overstepping, but I have made many wedding dresses before for many women.  Most of them were almost in tears with joy, but you seem extremely composed…”

“Do not worry, I understand your curiosity.  And I am excited, this marriage will be extremely beneficial for both us and the Antarctic empire, there is nothing that could bring me more joy.”  You weren’t even lying, this was an almost too good to be true alliance.  Your parents had not completely explained it to you, but after spending a lifetime trying to understand the world’s politics, you could connect the dots on your own.  

“Of course, mademoiselle.” Charlotte bowed to you, but you could see the hollowness of her expression.  Your slight avoidance of her question told her all she wanted to know. “I will see you tomorrow, god bless the king.”

You inclined your head.  “God bless the king,”

-

The last week at your home was split between dress fittings and devouring your novels and poems.  Luckily, your mother was not present for most of your dress fittings anymore, as it would take far too much time out of her schedule to micromanage you that much.  Although you knew that was why she was leaving you alone, a part of you liked to think that perhaps she trusted you to ensure that Charlotte followed her directions.

The only thing you were worried about missing in your new home was your palace’s extensive library.  You weren’t sure how much stock the Antarctic court put on education and literature, so you might not ever be able to read some of your favourite novels again.  You hoped your fiancé would at least be open to you reading, and perhaps their palace would have some sort of library.  However, just in case they didn’t, you planned on reading as much as you could until you left.  You knew you would be permitted to take books with you on the ship as well, as your parents considered your education to be of the utmost importance.  

You and Charlotte had started to get along fairly well, it was a shame you would likely never have another dress made by her again. Once she realized that you would dance around any personal questions about your wedding, she started searching for other topics.  You then discovered that you both loved many of the same poets and ended up talking for hours and hours about their work.  If you didn’t discuss poetry, she would often let you ramble about whatever you wanted, which was a wonderful relief, as you rarely had anyone to talk to. You told her all about the architecture of the palace, the economic structure of the kingdom, and everything you knew about the latest scientific advances.  Your kingdom was not very modern, so all you knew was from reading any scientific journals you could get your hands on.  Science captured your imagination almost as much as poetry and myths.    

To your delight, it took all week to finish your wedding dress, so you and Charlotte were able to talk up until your departure. At your last fitting, Charlotte laced you up as tight as she could and slipped your dress onto you.  She didn’t have anything to change, it hung perfectly, a pale pink watered silk with delicate creamy lace trim.  It perfectly framed your body, starting with a modest high neckline, before flowing down your arms in lightly fitted long sleeves, then dragging upon the floor in a regal train.  You could say with confidence that it was your new favourite dress, it was a shame you would only be able to wear it once.  

#of fire and ice