The retold fairytale of Theseus Roblegesque

                                    

                                          
Theseus Roblegesque has dreaded his 16th birthday for as long as he can remember. The dread constantly hovers in the back of his mind, flitting about and tainting a memory or two. He remembers being 13 and waking up in a cold sweat after imagining a faceless woman chasing him down a foyer. He had burst through the doors at the end of the foyer and been greeted with a horrific sight. He had gasped in horror as he watched himself exchange vows with the unidentifiable woman. The dream had cut off just as they were about to kiss when he forced himself awake. The dream was a recurring one, increasing in frequency as he neared his 16th birthday. He never told anyone, and shoved his feelings aside, in aim of fulfilling his predetermined future. The evening before his 16th birthday Theseus was raising a spoonful of pea soup to his mouth as his mother started to chatter. He was just about to swallow when his mother cut in.
"Youu knoow Theeseeuus wee haave beeeen foortuunaatee eenoouught tomaarryy you ooff to a looveelyy yoouung princess froom a neeiighbooooring kiiingdoom." She said, elongating her vowels in a way that was obviously forced.
Theseus chokes on his soup and his spoon clatters against his bowl as he drops it.
"Wh-what?!" He sputters as he pounds his chest. 
"Yeesss aaaa deliiightfuuul yooouuung laaaady. We'veee beeeeen waaaarneeed sheeee'ss a biiiiit uuunruuly, but I'm suuuureee it's nothing mootherhooood couldn't fix." She drawled. Listening to her speak could be uncomfortable at times, but Theseus was now uncomfortable for an entirely different reason.
"Um-ok of c..course that's b-brilliant." He stammers. His mother gives him a questioning look but moves on. She continues the conversation but Theseus tunes her out. A pit of dread pools in his stomach and his hands begin to shake. He had no idea why but he could never fathom the idea of siring a child with a woman. His vision blurs and he stands up abruptly. He realizes everyone's staring at him now, waiting for him to speak.
"Sweeeeetie?" His mother inquires.
"I- I apologize, but I must excuse myself. Good night." 
"Oh, well um good night dear." His mother forgets her accent in her confusion but Theseus barely notices. He somehow makes it up to his bedroom, and shuts the door behind him. He barely remembers the walk upstairs. He leans against the wall, a raging headache developing behind his eyes. He eventually rests his whole weight on the wall, barely able to remain standing. 
When he's able to gather his bearings he stumbles over to his bed and buries himself in blankets, hiding from the unfortunate truth of reality.
—
The next week passes in a blur of wedding preparations and itchy suits. Intoxicating flowers and wine tasting. Table clothes and meal planning. When the big day arrives Theseus is so nervous he can't form words. Every time he attempts to speak the words barricade themselves in his throat, stopped by a ball of nerves. 
He swallows thickly and bops up and down anxiously, swinging his arms back and forth. His father had told him he felt the first way when he met Theseus's mother, but that the moment he saw her in her stunning white dress all of the fear and anxiety melted away into bliss. Theseus can only hope it works the same way for him. As the wooden doors Theseus is standing in front of begin to open and organ music reverberates throughout the chapel, Theseus's stomach clenches. He rocks back and forth on his feet and slams his eyes shut for as long as possible. When he's sure the doors must be open he forces himself to pry open his eyes.
 Light overwhelms his eyes and he blinks a few times to clear his vision, while stumbling forward. Eventually his eyes adjust and he's able to see the chapel. He walks slowly down the aisle, keeping his face set towards the floor. When he reaches the very end of the aisle he takes a breath and slowly raises his head.  A girl stands at the altar, with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. Theseus supposes she is gorgeous but...he can't feel anything towards her. Is this what attraction feels like? Is this love? Why was it so...boring? So mundane? Was this the burn as strong as a thousand suns his father had described? Was this the punch in the gut his mother had forewarned? Was it his fault? Was he doing something wrong? He tries to force himself to feel something for this gorgeous maiden. What was wrong with him that he couldn't feel the same as his parents? Was something wrong with him?
As Theseus's thoughts spiraled his stomach churned and  his eyes watered. His throat ached from trying not to cry and he tried to pass it off as tears of joy.  He forces his feet to continue forward and trudges up to the women. A stab of guilt almost toppled him when he looked at her again. 
She didn't deserve to spend the rest of her life with someone as messed up as him. Someone who couldn't even feel love. It was tragic to unwittingly spend the rest of your life with a person who doesn't love you back. Theseus wraps his arm around his waist as bile rises in the back of his throat. 
'Oh my God.' He thinks to himself. 'The world's caving in on me." 
Sweat drips off his forehead and down his back in the sweltering heat. The room warps and distorts around him until all he can see is those piercing blue eyes prying into his mind. 
She knows. How could she know? How did she already know there was something wrong with him? Did he look like a perverted monster? Oh god it was too much.
And yet he still manages to keep his eyes fixed on hers. He realizes too late that she's not staring at him, but instead through him. The girl had the thousand mile stare of someone who had been to war and back. Theseus can feel his legs shaking and his hands are clammy. He's sure the priest is saying something but he can't bring himself to listen.
Oh, what monstrosity is he? Why can't he love the girl in front of him? The girl blinks for he realizes the first time throughout the whole sermon, seemingly startled and reaches forward for his hands. Theseus panics but manages to grasp her hands in his own. He realizes that her hands are shaking slightly as well. Her eyes flick up and down him as she realizes the same thing. 
Suddenly the whole chapel erupts in cheering and screaming and Theseus catches the words 'KISS THE BRIDE' in the mix.
His stomach lodges itself in his throat. He sees the girl's eyes widen slightly although that might've been imagined by Theseus. He can barely think straight as his thoughts fight each other to gain his attention. He supposes the first step would be to lean forward. The girl takes the hint from him and leans forward a bit too. The clapping stops and some confused murmuring starts up. 'Kiss the bride was again being muttered, this time more questioningly.  
The girl and him are so close now but he can't stop shaking. They both inch forward ever so slightly more. Then a little more. Then a little more. Just as they're standing close enough  together Theseus can see a scar in the shape of a star lightly patterned on her temple, his legs give out and he topples forward. The girl makes a sound like an "Oomph." and their lips are shoved up against each other. Theseus prays to every God he knows to feel something for this girl but there's nothing there. The kiss feels empty and gross. Theseus feels dirty as soon as their lips connect, a deep urge to run overcoming him. He wants to throw up. He wants this gross, slimy disgusting kiss to end. 
Theseus and the girl pull away from each other almost immediately, both of them trying to wipe their lips without someone noticing. 
"Theseus Roblegesque of Berethroven is officially wedded to Ana Kendric of Mooreck!" The priest announces to much cheering. Theseus forces a smile on his face as he waits for the worst moment of his life to end. He holds Ana's hand and can feel her flinch slightly at his touch. They both stand there for a moment, basking in the applause of the public. Drowning their dread in public adoration.