Arranged marriage. (DrinkToMeOnlyWithThineEyes.)

[SilentFeather]

Two elven kings are to be in an arranged marriage. It has been that way for centuries in the two feuding empires. A son or daughter would bring peace to the bloody war between them. It was how it was meant to be.

..

Tristan, a young 23 year old man had dark chocolate brown eyes, short dark blackish brown hair, caramel skintoned flesh and a strong, well built body. That morning, he sighed in his head, accepting his Father's stern words for what they were. He bowed his head to him, not daring to complain any further. When he was finally able to leave his father's mighty, handsome presence he scurried away like a fearful animal. He traveled down a seemingly endless hallway, soon sighing with relief as he saw his room door. He turned it's knob, stepping into the depths of it's dark, pitch black room and closing it with a soft click. He walked to his bed, laying down on it with a third sigh that night. He fell asleep almost instantly. He dreamt about many things, trying to be hopeful he steered his dreams away from nightmares. He managed steer clear from those cruel thoughts known as nightmares. He did and had a wonderful night sleep.

Tristan soon awoke to the glorious, peaceful symphony of many birds chirping outside of the castle which stood high above the vast, seemingly endless stretch of grounds below. He loved the castle, he was birthed in it and his brothers did but they perished in a war against the rival empire. He smiled happily, taking a short stroll to his room's window and taking a deep breath into his eager lungs. He was wondering to himself as to exactly who he would be joined to marriage. He hoped that his soulmate would be kindhearted, loving and affectionate. He was hopeful, wanting to stay that way. He was wondering when they would meet. He went into the throne room where his father was that dawn, bowing his head in respect to him like he was taught. He spoke only when his father told him to, not ever daring to speak out of turn. He was not foolish to do that. Never. He was wise not to speak until he was told to do so.

"Father .." Tristan said.

"Yes, my son?" The father who was king replied.

"Do you know when I am to be joined to my mate?" Tristan asked further.

"Tomorrow, you and him are to meet and you are to accept his seed to make a child."  The father said.

"I understand, thank you Father." Tristan said with a bow of his head, walking from the massive throne room.