Realistic or Modern 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

[erzulie]

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PRINCE OSÍN

dance floor

aeneas.

prince malik

“This will surely ruin us all.”

It was so very hard to keep his face carefully blank. He was all too aware of the cameras that watched their every move. There was a tautness to his body that would surely end in an aching neck by the time he was alone. What had been the thought process behind the idea of forced marriage between those with bad blood? Did anyone truly believe that all of the history they shared would simply disappear when two become one?

Dread settled in his stomach like a rock upon the arrival of King Mahavijay. It was both a blessing and a curse in a sense. Osin was sure that before long he would have been witness to a battle of fist rather than words. On the other hand, he was sure that he would much rather sit before the lord of death as he ushered him into his cool embrace. At least then he would be at peace, of this he was sure.

“If I must go through with this…this farce of a union, please be kind with my partner.” Osin prayed in his mind. He could see himself enjoying the company of either Prince Kaido or Princess Malavika. He had always been rather interested in their cultures at the very least. Though it was far too early to tell, it comforted him to think that they would be the least painful to be paired with.

“The pairs are…Prince Osin of Misbury and Prince Malik of Wyrn.”

Vaguely he could hear something cracking close by. The sharp pain in his hand pulled him from his shock. With dull eyes Osin gazed at his now broken glass, his hand a mess of wine and blood. His jaw clenched so hard that he was afraid that his teeth would shatter. “Breathe…breathe…control yourself!” He waved off concerned servants and peered at his wound, making sure no glass had been embedded into his skin. The sound of his chosen’s voice chilled his blood. Osin looked up slowly, his eyes malicious as he gazed into Malik’s eyes.

“It is expected of us after all…I apologize for my current state, though I’m sure the sight of blood does not bother you.” Osin spoke lowly, taking Malik’s hand with his bloodied one and holding firm. He was stiff as they made their way to the dance floor. “Just breathe…” His mother’s voice manifested in his head and he willed himself to relax. It took a moment but a false smile strained his lips. “We’ve been given a partner that we share history with…how lucky. We have so much to catch up on…wouldn’t you say?”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[aeneas.]

heir of wyrn.

prince malik.

la solitude

location

dance floor

outfit

here

interactions

prince osin

tags

erzulie

Brutality painted a haunting scene between the two men's hold on one another and the sight of it chilled Malik to the bone. If it weren't for their audience watching their every move, Prince Osin would have surely dug his nails into Malik until their blood mingled. Perhaps then he would have considered the two even.

A hopeful's dream, of course, Malik would be a dolt to believe such a fantasy. He understood that the prince aimed to use the product of his anger as a means to make him squirm; elicit a reaction and witness the heir of Wyrn falter. The name of The Horned Lamb wasn't just gifted to Prince Osin on a silver platter after all, when the opportunity permitted, he claimed the throne and molded his nation by his own design. And though his brother awoke and reaped the bounty, as Malik held Prince Osin's hand, he still found the ire that must have burned when he held the throne.

"There's no need to apologize, you are the one wounded, not me. But please, if I may."

He moved before the other could protest, fetching the handkerchief he hid beneath Wyrnian colors. Sweet Rahmiya had made it for him as a good luck charm and while everything on the prince seemed tailored to fit an image, the stitching of his name on the fraying piece of cloth was crooked and so visibly handmade. He met the gaze of Prince Osin once more, two opportunists bound together by duty and—as if the other was as fragile as the broken glass—gently tied the humble fabric around his bloody palm.

"I'd hate for your injury to be exposed while we dance, Prince Osin. Blood and sweat is a painful pairing and..."

You've experienced enough pain at my hands.

"I wish for the beginning of our... union to be pleasant in the hopes that the rest of our days may be."

He tried not to let his smile slip when his words were only met with a concealed tug towards the ballroom floor.

In the corners of his vision, Malik could see the blurs of the other couples beginning their first dances but despite his prior intrigue in all of Viesha's heirs, his attention hadn't strayed from his crimson-stained prince. Hidden within the overbearing symphony of music, the digital eyes of the media may linger but the technology within the cameras can only catch so much of their spectacles' words (Malik should know of all people, he approved the final schematics) At last, they were the closet to alone as they'll get for the opening ceremony.

And it seemed as though Prince Osin realized it too for as soon as they found their place, the lamb mustered the courage to jab his horns into Wyrn's pillar.

"Yes, it has been some time hasn't it? You... look well. Sometimes it feels like it was only a season ago you taught me the names of the stars."

Malik, out of sheer habit and admittedly, distraction, took the lead in their waltz, his hand meeting the other's waist as they reminisced the past. Back when they were simply boys and couldn't even imagine the world that was to come.

"And sometimes it feels like a distant dream."

Despite the weight of their conversation, Malik kept his expression light for the outsiders looking in. "You are Wyrn first and a person second." His father's teachings willed his composure in place as he continued,

"I'll admit, I was prepared to meet your brother here today."

King Elion would have been far easier to sway with his massive ego or at the very least, Malik would have felt less remorse if they found themselves playing this wicked game.

"Since we were young and till now, you keep me on my toes."