WAR | Timothée Chalamet

12 | The King's Wife

Y/N

_

"I, y/n, take thee, Timothée, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold."

The church was silent, everyone's ears perked for even the slightest mistake. My skin was tingling with anxiousness as I spoke my vows, but I had to strive through. I was already being weighed down by this huge wedding dress, and now I had everyone's expectations weighing on me.

I had to say every word perfectly.

"From this day forward," I continued, "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer."

I stared into Timothée's eyes, watching them sparkle happily as I pushed his wedding band slowly onto his finger.

"In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish," I said, "till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance."

He nodded, as if he was taking in every individual word. I couldn't help but smile when one of his curls fell in front of his face, tangled up in the crown on his head.

I took a deep breath, the words dancing off my tongue. "And thereto I pledge myself to you."

And that was it. I had finished my vows, without so much as a failed word. Timothée tilted his head proudly, infatuation painted all over his face. I squeezed his hand, our matching rings shining next to each other.

"By the power vested in me," the Archbishop commemorated, "and by Valor, I pronounce you both husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Timothée winked playfully, before pulling me in for a kiss. It was official, we were now bound together in love forever. Neither of us needed a ring to prove that, but it was required. We were swallowed up by the sounds of cheering as we ran out of the building, making our way to the carriage waiting below the steps.

As I climbed into the carriage, I sat down on the velvet seats, watching as Timothée shut the door behind him.

"Just married," I grinned, "that has a nice ring to it."

"Makes sense," the boy laughed, "considering you also have a nice ring."

I held up my hand, the golden circle glimmering against my skin. We both shared another laugh, before the carriage began to pull off towards the back of the castle. Even though the ceremony had ended, we weren't able to honeymoon quite yet.

"Your crown is falling," I pointed out, giggling as it leaned towards the side of my husband's head.

Husband. I loved calling him that. I finally could! Timothée rolled his eyes teasingly, before taking it off of his head and putting it on mine.

"There," he nodded, "I fixed it."

_

I stalked down the castle corridors, my eyes darting down each hallway.

Almost as soon as we had gone through the doors, Timothée was summoned away for an emergency meeting in the council's chambers. I hadn't seen him for almost three hours now, and I was already peeved that it took that long to get me out of my wedding dress. I just needed to see him at least once since then. He is my husband, after all. As I approached the chamber, my footsteps slowed, the sound of voices echoing out from one of the door cracks.

It sounded like shouting. I pressed my ear up to the door, my heart beat drowning out any other sounds.

"We don't have any other options, Richard," I heard Timothée sigh.

Richard was the first in command of the council. Anything the King declared had to be passed by him first.

"We don't have a sustainable army," Richard fought back, "fighting in this war would be impossible."

"We cannot let them burn an innocent city down, and not take action!"

There was silence, followed by the sound of a book slamming onto a table. The murmur of other council members filtered around the room, but many were indistinguishable.

"If we declare another war," Richard's voice appeared again, "there is a possibility you could die."

Timothée hesitated, as if he had a doubt with his proposal. I bit my lip, praying he'd take it all back. If he died, I wouldn't know what I'd do. I'd have nothing.

"If ending this war leads to that," the boy said, his voice shaking, "I'm afraid that's a road I'll have to take."

"But what about your Queen?"

"I'm doing this for her. It was my fault for taking her from her village, and now I must be the one to fix this mess."

No, Timothée, you don't have to be. There has to be another way. I took my ear off of the door, my chest heavy. I knew he'd fight in the war nevertheless, and it scared me to the bone.

I couldn't lose him like that.

Turning on my heels, I ran down the hallway, my mind racing. There had to be another way, there had to be another way, there had to be. I slid down the stairs, my shoes skidding against the stone floor until I reached the stables.

"Willoughby!" I called out, as soon as I caught sight of my horse, "we need to ride."

I had decided to name the horse after a character in one of my favorite books, the name suiting his sleek features. Jumping onto the saddle, I grabbed the reins and steered out of the crowded stable.

My stomach churned with dread as I crossed the bridge, painful memories of my last departure coming to mind. In order to reach the Frey, I would have to pass through Lourdes.

What's left of it, that is.

As I guided Willoughby through the ruins, I had to avert my eyes from everything that was surrounding me. This was awful, unjust, and disgusting. As soon as I reached the end of the destroyed city, a new flame of anger was starting to burn inside me.

"Let's go," I sighed, patting the horse's side.

Entering Frey territory for the first time was incredibly unsettling. The whole place was characterized in a completely different style then Valor was. Valor was built on stone, and the Frey was just.... Golden.

The pathway leading up the gate was painted with gold streaks, and the shiny castle was peeking over the horizon. It really showed the difference in Kingdom priorities.

"Halt!"

I tugged on Willoughby's reins when the voice barked at me. A small man was sitting in his guard tower, leaning over the edge to get a good look at me.

"State your business," he yelled, his spear thudding against the ground.

"I am here to see the King," I answered, my confidence overcoming my previous fear.

The man laughed, "tough luck, lady."

"I must insist."

"The king doesn't see anyone, get lost."

"I'm not leaving," I frowned, "until you let me through those gates."

The man rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed by my persistence. I wasn't going to let him turn me away just like that, and I wasn't going to stop until I got what I wanted.

"Fine," he growled, "state your name."

Even if it took a pointless argument to win, at least I'd have this small sliver of satisfaction to take with me.

"Y/N Chalamet," I said, the words dripping off my tongue, "Queen of Valor."

_

queen.

literally.