Angel stood in the stables, brushing down his horse's side for the fourth time. He was a gorgeous stallion (the horse, not the prince), a huge but somehow graceful animal the color of his master's eyes. His name was Bishop.
Angel sighed as he ran the brush over Bishop's broad flank. Being a prince hadn't been that bad. Being betrothed, now that was simply unacceptable. But what was he supposed to do about it? The wedding was mending an age-old rift between two countries. If he even attempted to cry off, it would mean war all over again. He would be sacrificing hundreds and even thousands of lives for his own emotions, and the righteous fighter of evil in him could not allow that to happen.
His heart, however, was having serious problems with the new situation. He had been in love with Buffy since the first moment he saw her. She had been his everything, and anything good he had ever done had really been in her name. She had inspired him, and he couldn't really remember how he had existed before loving her.
The devil's advocate in his head argued that no one expected him to find love in a marriage of state, and some cultures considered affection for one's spouse to be in bad taste. Still, he didn't want to marry a complete stranger. If he couldn't have Buffy, he didn't want anyone.
But 'not having anyone' was no longer an option, and he knew it, which was why he was still standing in the palace stables and mindlessly brushing his increasingly confused horse.
****
Willow walked through the royal gardens listlessly. Her attendants looked at one another uneasily, having no idea how to deal with the overly pensive princess. Finally, she dismissed them all, knowing they would never be more than a hedge away if she needed anything.
Sighing, she sat down on an ornamental bench. Normally, she would try to put a brave face on, no matter how grim things seemed. This time, though, she couldn't seem to find a bright side.
Maybe the trouble was that things weren't grim enough. An apocalypse, or the hellmouth, or an ascension, or a master vampire hunting down her best friend-- these were things she considered herself equipped to deal with. But marriage to a complete stranger? That was a frightening prospect that she had never even considered.
And that very night, she was meeting him. She was meeting the man that she would marry in two weeks time, the man she was expected to have children with, the man who would become her master and monarch for the rest of her life...
No. She couldn't accept it. There was always a spell, or a portal, or a helpful demon. And if she couldn't find one, she would use her unending supply of spunk to make up the difference. After all, she had stopped frightening things before.
A reputedly chauvinistic fiance couldn't be any worse.
****
Willow met her mother and father about five minutes before they entered the banquet hall where she was scheduled to be introduced to Prince Alaric.
Her father was white-haired, though he looked no older than fifty. Her mother looked the same age as Marie, though she had a more regal bearing. The fondness in their eyes when they looked at their only daughter made Willow blush, and left her with more than a little feeling of melancholy. Her real parents had never looked at her like that, never looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen, like she was their most exalted accomplishment in their all-too-short lives...
Shaking herself, Willow held up her chin. It wouldn't do to burst into tears before seeing the entire court, as well as the man who would call her wife.
Bravely, she stepped through the carved oak doors held open by the heralds in bright livery.
****
Angel cast a nervous glance at Garwin as they prepared to be announced.
"Don't worry An- um, Alaric, everything will work out." Angel's father glared at the two young men.
"Just for once, Alaric, try not to disappoint me." He stalked away with his attendants, leaving Angel rather crestfallen. True, he had only met the king that afternoon, but he felt some sort of compulsion to please him already.
Garwin clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. "Don't listen to him. And don't worry about the princess. I'm sure none of the rumors are true."
Angel looked at him sharply. "Rumors?"
Garwin winced. "Yeah, you know. She can't be as stupid as they say."
Angel sighed. This evening couldn't be any more fun.
****
Willow stood as the heralds opened the main doors and blew their trumpets. Her parents stood behind her on the dais, and Marie was at her right hand. Her mind was whirling as the king and his son were announced, but she barely registered the words as the majordomo cried out their names. She heard a 'majesty', a 'highness' and a few of the prince's eight names, but she could only hear one name in her mind.
It was him. Across the Great Hall, in a doublet of midnight blue velvet ornamented with jewels of state and silvery gray hose, it was him. His permanently haphazard hair was covered with a small crown of beaten gold, but it was him. Surrounded by servants and his father's men, it was him. It was Angel.
Angel's eyes were drawn to the thrones on the raised dais all draped with purple watered silk, hoping to see his future bride, and when he saw her, he almost laughed in relief. He would recognize that red hair anywhere, and her barely suppressed grin of recognition precluded any doubt that it was her. She was so bright it almost hurt to look at her for long, her scarlet hair glowing against the sapphire brocade of her bodice. Her full skirt was a slightly darker blue, open at the front to reveal her ivory kirtle. Topping everything was the pearl circlet that dipped down into her forehead, emphasizing the heart shape of her face.
She was a princess, but she was still Willow. His day was looking up.
****
"Welcome, Prince Alaric," Willow said, trying to keep the ironic tone out of her voice.
"We meet at last, Princess Aurelia," he replied, his eyes twinkling madly as he leaned over to kiss her extended hand.
"At long last." Garwin was startled at the sarcasm that seemed to drip from her innocent statement, but no one else seemed to notice. Taking Willow's arm, Angel led her out to the dance floor as the court musicians began to play. Under cover of music and the chattering nobles, they were finally able to speak.
"This is unbelievable," Willow began.
"You're telling me. One day, I own a private detective agency in LA with a former prom queen as my surprisingly capable secretary, the next I'm a crown prince, engaged to be married, I'm human, and I find out that my betrothed is my ex-girlfriend's best friend-"
Willow cut him off, a startled look in her eyes. "What did you say?"
"Ex-girlfriend's best friend?"
"Human?" she squeaked. Angel grinned in response.
"Oh, definitely. I went outside. In the sun, no less. It was wonderful."
"Angel, I'm so happy for you! I want to hug you, but I think half the royal court would die of shock."
"You're probably right. In any case, I appreciate the sentiment."
"Too bad it had to happen after passing through the vortex thingy, instead of back in Sunnydale. That would have solved a whole lot of problems."
He nodded ruefully. "Things never happens like they should. I think that's my motto in life." A few moments later, the dance ended and dinner was served.
"So Willow," Angel said oh-so-casually, "did you know that I now eat food for its nutritional value?"
Willow found that after such a statement, she didn't care what might or might not be proper for a princess.
She laughed out loud.