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Leona never believed he would marry; he was the second-born prince, an afterthought. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He imagined getting married off to some other country for whatever was offered, but he never truly believed it would happen.
Arranged and political marriages weren't uncommon, but his brother wasn't the type to sell him off like cattle. He much preferred when Leona was home- if he could call that place home.
The point was, he never believed he would marry. Would never settle down in some foreign country away from his homeland. To be without his language, people, and family- even though his people despised him. He much less anticipated that he would be in Briar Valley, married to Malleus Draconia—The damn lizard, one of the most powerful mages in the world.
Malleus Draconia, his husband; the man whom he once hated, his husband; the man he ate every meal with, his husband; the man who catered to his every whim, his husband.
The fae was something of an anomaly now. Back at NRC, he couldn't stand the man, all sharp words and deep-seated hatred. When he was told he was to marry him, he expected to be treated horribly. Ignored and alienated, just like in the savannah. He never expected to be treated like true royalty, a queen. The servants bowed and answered to his whim; they were kind, so unlike the one at home. His personal maids learned to care for his hair, how to style it, and his preferences. His wardrobe reflected both his homeland and the Valley. He had an inkling that Malleus had something to do with that. The man wore a disgusting smile when he saw Leona in one of the garments.
Over the time he had spent in his room and wandering the Castle, talking to Malleus and the others, he started to think of it more as a home than the savannah. The moon's pale glint always coated everything in a thin sheen of beauty, something Leona was growing to love.
The sun's kiss was something he longed for, but the moon crept up on him. Covering every inch of his skin, burying itself in his soul.
When he first arrived, he had locked himself in his room, refusing to leave. He ate, slept, and dissociated in that room, all alone. He only left when the ceremony took place, a grand thing he despised. He felt hundreds of eyes on him, pinning him in place as cloth was wrapped around both of their arms, tied in a knot, binding them together for eternity. Malleus' eyes held nothing for him, as did his. It was political, something no such thing as love would touch.
Or at least something he never thought love would touch. Several weeks after the ceremony, Malleus had forced him out of his room and to a library. It was an imposing, large room, with shelves stretching to the ceiling filled with books; centuries-old books Leona wanted to learn every word of, learn them enough that he could recite them from memory. The Lizard had proclaimed it was his, a place for him to spend all day should he choose. The gift- if it could be called that- was something that brought a spark of excitement to Leona's cold chest.
A small smile had grown across his face; he spent the whole day there. Only leaving to eat, then immediately returning.
He had spent many days there since. A small corner had become his, his scent attached to the old wood and books. Malleus would show up occasionally, the man in his royal garb, that silver crown placed upon his head.
Leona's own crown rested in his room, a vanity adorned with gold and jewels held it safe. The dragon fae liked to watch him, ask him questions. It had started slowly; Leona did not like being interrupted, but over time he answered the questions. Sharing what he learned, things he knew Malleus already knew. The talks led to eating together, which led to walking the gardens, which led to playing chess. The games brought another spark to Leona’s chest; the smile on the fae's face when he won brought a strange warmth to his chest.
He learned Malleus, how he acted and how he ticked. He fell in love; it was a stupid and terrible decision. How could he fall in love with the lizard? Was it those late-night chess matches, or the talks on the roof of the castle?
Soft-spoken words just between them. He had learned to live with him; he wanted him. And now he couldn't sleep without him, the moon glow laughing at him as it streamed through his window. His eyes were heavy, yet sleep evaded his every attempt to catch it.
The sheets under him were soft, and cradled him in a hold he longed to fall into. The silence of the room lay heavy, the urge to get up and leave strong.
Too strong, as the sheets shifted. His feet on the ground as he walked to the door; it clicked open, the dark of the hallway bleeding in. The guard stationed outside turned to look at him, impassive in his expression. Leona looked at him for a moment before speaking, “Fetch me a lantern.”
The man took a step forward, turning to face him. “Yes, Your Majesty.” His feet spun as he turned, walking down the hallway. Leona watched after him, leaning against the wall as he waited. A minute later, the guard reappeared, an old candle-lit lantern in his hand.
Hand outstretched, Leona took it. “Thank you,” he spoke into the night, turning down the long hallway. The moon's light streaked through the windows, the lantern lighting his way. The stretch of hall twisted and turned, the walls stretched up to the sky—cold and unwelcoming. Yet it did nothing to dissuade him; this was his home now. Soon enough, the grand door to Malleus's room came into view. It was large, ornate, and of rich wood, grainy under his fingertips.
A dragon was carved into the center, curled into itself, like it was sleeping. Leona ghosted his fingertips along the carving before twisting the knob, old brass cold in his hand. The door opened silently in the night as he entered.
He stared at the dragon fae in bed, lying on his back, eyes closed in slumber. The door shut with a click as he walked further inside.
He brought the lantern up, blowing the small flame out, before setting it aside. He neared the bed, letting out a long breath. He pulled the cover back and knelt on the sheets. The bed dipped as he crawled in, curling on his side, his back to Malleus.
His eyes slipped shut as the bed shifted behind him—arms wrapped around his waist, a man plastered to his back. Malleus curled around him, pulling him close. Warm breathing ghosting on his neck, the beastman's tail moving to wrap around Malleus's thigh. The arms around his waist tightened, and Malleus stuck his nose in his hair. He opened his eyes a crack, flicking to look at Malleus in his peripheral vision.
Once heavy eyes finally slipped shut with the promise of sleep. The hold on him eased him into slumber.