Beauty and the Beast (Ivar x OC)

PART ONE

The season was upon London, and for many it was one of excitement and anticipation. Many  young ladies were to debut; ready to find themselves a husband or be shoved into the frowned upon status of spinster. This season came with an intense chorus of gossip at the news, Alfred, their young crown prince was looking for a wife and that in the wake of the peace between England and Norway; the royal family of Norway would be gracing the English season.

People whispered about King Ragnar, a pagan, and his family; Aslaug, his second wife was supposedly a powerful witch, and their four sons were notoriously handsome and handfuls.

The peace, despite holding, was fragile. Pagans and Christians spending time together was the aim, to see if they could co-exist amongst one another. While stuck in this strange limbo, people worried another war would wage between the two great nations.

The people had whispered about Ragnar's baptism during peace negotiations, only to return home and continue his pagan traditions, calling it a farce. These same poeple though still whispered as to Alfred's legitimacy. They would gossip over anything.

Now, the Viking royals would descend on the London's season; many young women as well as their mothers were eager for a potential match.

Charlotte watched the rain sliding along the glass. Behind her, her sisters were running amok; giggling and dancing as they picked out fabrics they wanted for their dresses. Their mother, Lady Viscount Elizabeth Harding, fussed over their choices, ensuring they picked only the finest to match their colouring, hair, and personalities. She was a particular woman in that regard.

"Lotti, do not sit idle at the window dear, come and choose."

Charlotte turned to face the chaos in the sitting room. Bolts of lace, silk and chiffon were strewn across the table between the chairs in many colours and styles. Spying the deep blue among the pile, Charlotte climbed from her place at the window and crossed the floor to the fabrics. She picked up the heavy silk, running her fingers along it.

Elizabeth so graceful in her middle years, sighed wistfully as she nodded in agreement, running her fingers along the fabric Charlotte held. "It's beautiful; it'll suit your complexion my sweet."

She was right; it would indeed suit Charlotte. Of the seven children of the Harding family, Charlotte was the only one who took after their mother. Whenever people saw them together, they couldn't help but comment on how striking it was to see mother and daughter side by side.

She glanced at her mother, worry creasing her delicate features. "Do you think they will gossip?"

Elizabeth frowned, noticing her four other daughters quietening down to listen in. "My dear, if they gossip it, we will take it in our stride. We have not been shunned."

Charlotte certainly hoped they understood. She hadn't intended to spurn the Duke, but he seemed content with Eloise Fulton, who he'd chosen only hours after she had rejected his proposal. Her mother still frowned when it was mentioned, unable to understand why Charlotte had turned the man down. In truth, Charlotte didn't care for him, she'd tolerated his presence to appease her mother.

While her mother did not agree with her choice, Arthur, her father did. He'd long disliked the way the man had pushed for marriage so quickly, worrying that something had happened between Charlotte and the Duke. Nothing had. It didn't stop the whispers, no matter how much Charlotte tried to ignore them.

"Come dear, cheer up, are you not excited to meet our guests in a few days?" Elizabeth said, dragging Charlotte from her thoughts.

She tried to smile, but it felt like a lie. She wasn't really looking forward to the arrival of the royal family, she'd heard the rumours of the son's behaviours with women, heard of the ice queen that was their mother, Aslaug and it terrified her to imagine these great heathens invading for the next few months. She only wished her father hadn't been selected to deal with them, but his prior business with Ragnar made him the only candidate, and by extension the elder children were tasked with helping the princes feel welcome.