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sweetlittleroses · 1 year ago

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Paid Debt

Pairings:Fem!Aemond(Aemma)x older Lucerys

Warnings: Angst, fluff, jealousy, and smut

Summary: Aemma wanted Luke to pay his debt but it didn't go as planned

Author’s Note: Sorry for not being active in a while, just trying to get life in order. Aemma is still Alicent's daughter but didn't marry the king. Not comfortable with the idea of incest. Basically Rhaenyra and Alicent were best friends but now are enemies because of other altercations. So rather than having Targaryen blonde, Alicent married someone blonde rather than white hair. No relation whatsoever. Also House Hightower is trying to take over the throne by killing the king.

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Aemma could see her destination getting closer as she rode on Vhagar. War was looming and her mother ordered her to gather as many allies.

Once landing near the castle of Storms End, she headed towards the entrance of House Baratheon and saw a couple knights waiting to escort her to Lord Borros.

When they finally got to the main hall she saw Lord Borros sitting on his throne. What a useless man.

Aemma's POV<3

“Princess Aemma, what brings you here at this hour?”

“I came as a messenger on behalf of King Aegon in which he asks for your houses allegiance and to defend the throne”, I said as I handed the scroll to him.

As he was reading the scroll, I couldn't help but internally cringe as he smirked at the proposal of my hand in marriage.

“Well Princess, it seems that your hand in exchange for the allegiance of my house”, he smirked.

Kill him.

He kept eye contact with me as he called a knight to bring his children.

“Then Princess... which one of my 2 sons will you marry?”

I turned to look at his children. My disgust grew as I saw the reaction of not only his sons but his daughters. His sons held disgust and frowned at the sight of the scar across my eye. His daughters turned to hide their sly smiles at the damage on my skin. A damaged good.

Turning back my attention to his sons, I observed every detail of them. They were all plain looking and nothing stood out from them. They were weak and filthy excuses for so-called men.

Without a second thought, I chose the tallest. Not only was I unfortunate to this betrothal but it seemed he didn’t want me as his wife either by the look of dread.

Lord Borros seemed pleased. What a fool.

Before he could say anything else, many footsteps were heard .The knights entered the hall with a figure behind them.

“Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon!”, a knight announced.

I saw him come forward and couldn’t help but smirk at his bastard features that had become noticeable. He was living up to the Strong name with curly hair that reached his shoulders, a bit of facial hair, and the same build of his Strong father. A bastard indeed.

“My Lord..” Just by a bit of his words, it seemed his voice became deeper with time. Goosebumps ran through my body.

“It seems that not only one messenger was sent but tell me my prince, what is the Queen willing to offer for my house’s allegiance? Which of my two daughters will you marry?”,Lord Borros asked as he diverted his attention to his two daughters.

Turning my attention to his daughter, I noticed how each of them looked at the bastard. Innocence and shyness was portrayed but I could tell their eyes held desire as they scanned him. They were plain looking like their brothers and were not capable of handling a dragon.

“I am sorry my Lord, but I am not free to marry. I am already bethroted”, Lucerys replied as he looked at me. A warm feeling spread through me.

“Then run along back to your mother. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”,he stated.

“I will give your message back to the Queen”, Lucery's stated as he was moving to leave.

No. This bastard was not going to run back to his mother’s skirts.

“Do you think you can leave after threatening to take my brother’s throne? Not only are you a traitor but an oath breaker. You owe me a debt and you will pay it bastard!”, I taunted as I smirked.

“Give me your eye as repayment for mine. One will serve and I will have it as gift to my mother”, I continued to taunt as I pulled the dagger from my side pocket and threw it to the ground in his direction.

When I looked up at him, I was excited to see the same face that held fear as when he was a mere child but the excitedness was wiped away when I looked at his eyes that held defiance as a “NO”escaped his lips.

“I will not give my eye for a mistake..”, as he talked, I saw through the corner of my eye as one of Borros’s daughters was coming closer to him as a way to comfort him and pull his attention to her. Such an innocent act from a snake. It seemed she felt my stare and turned to me with a small smirk.

Drawing my attention back to Luke, I snapped.

“GIVE ME YOUR EYE OR I WILL TAKE IT FROM YOU BASTARD!”, I shouted as I approached him but as I got closer he stayed in one place.

“NOT IN MY HALL!” Lord Borros shouted and I stopped. Looking around I saw how everyone’s eyes were drawn to us and finally my sights fell back to Lucerys. Putting my dagger away I looked back at Lord Borros.

“The storm seems to have became worse and both your mother’s would come for my head if I sent both of you in this chaos”

He turned to looked as his knight “Escort them to separate chambers and I will see you in the morrow”

We were both escorted to separate chambers which I assumed were to avoid any bloodshed on his grounds. I walked behind my dear nephew and starred daggers at him. I want him to feel the same pain as I did when I was a child.

When the knights brought me to my guest chambers I saw the other knight lead him to a couple rooms ahead.

“I would like to be left alone” I said as I noticed a knight standing by the door

“My apologies Princess but by order of the Lord we are placed here”

Closing the door, I couldn’t help but pace around and think of how to get to Lucerys. A sudden knock came to my door disrupting my thoughts.

“I’m sorry to disturb you Princess, but I brought some food as requested from Lord Borros”

I nodded to the servant, but couldn’t help but ask of the bastard. “Was the same requested to Prince Lucerys?”

“Yes Princess, but Lady Maris accompanied the other servant to his chambers to keep him company ”

I sneered at the thought of that whore.

I waited a couple hours as the sky grew darker. Due to my riding gear being wet, I changed into some night clothes. As I opened the door I peaked to see the guards posted. They were asleep. Incompetent as their Lord.

As I came closer to the his chambers, I couldn’t wait to taste the screams of that bastard once I take out his eye. He will go crying to his whore of a mother like he did when he was a child. Coming closer to the door, I could hear giggles coming from his room . They were muffled but I already knew who they belonged to.

“My Lord, you jest to much”, Maris giggled.

“I swear my Lady, Arrax purposefully tried to push me into the waters”, Lucerys chuckled.

“You have many adventurous stories. Could I hear another one?”, Maris asked. She needed to leave now before she too met the same fate.

It seemed the Gods heard me.

“Im sorry, my lady but it seems the day has gone and we wouldn’t want your father to be alerted” said another voice.

“Oh my, you are correct. I’ll see you in the morrow Prince Lucery’s”, as she departed from his chamber along with her ladies. I hid behind a pillar to avoid any attention. I waited for a couple of minutes for any sound inside the chamber until I heard snoring. The gods must be in my favor to leave Lucerys defenseless.

Quietly opening the door to his chamber,I peaked in to see the sight that beheld me. The room was almost dark but with a small glow of light emitting from the bedside by some candles. Lucerys was splayed out in the middle. I stepped into the room and closed the door.Taking out the dagger from my side I took quiet steps towards the bed.

With one last look, I slowly straddled him. The debt would finally be repaid. Lifting the dagger up to his eye I drew closer, but before I could take it a strong hand stopped me. I was picked up and pushed by the neck to the nearest wall.

“Hello, Aemma”, Lucerys smirked as he held me by my throat while the other hand held my wrist which held the dagger.

“Unhand me bastard” I yelled at him as he put pressure on my neck but not enough to choke me.

“Why are you here at this hour?”Lucerys asked as he softened his grip and looked at the dagger.

Pushing him as hard as I could. I escaped his hold and pointed the dagger at him. “I came to collect your eye”

“Im sorry but I won’t allow it.” he replied seriously

“You owe that to me! You scarred me and caused the realm to look at me like a monster” I shouted angrily but my eye started to tear up. Don’t cry! don’t be weak!

I will not shed tears in front of this bastard and give him the satisfaction.

“I will have your eye one way or another”I said but he seemed to not care.

“I have apologized countless times but as I said it for the last time, I won’t let you.Now leave” he said and turned to go back to bed.

“Why?! So you can go back to your whore!So you can go and create bastards with that whore!?”I laughed as I could see him get angry.

“Shut it!” As he turned with anger.

I walked closer with the dagger hidden behind and whispered “I wouldn’t be surprised since your mother was also a whore. Like mother like son!”I laughed out loud but was cut short once he grabbed me by the throat again and pushed me to the bed for my back to hit.

Before I could fully fall back on the bed I swung the dagger. Nearly missing the eye, a cut was done accross the cheek. So close yet so far.

With one hand still holding me down by my throat, he used the other to swipe at the blood coming out of the cut and looked back at me with shock. I couldn’t help but feel proud at the small damage I made. But like my eye, he stole the satisfaction once he smirked. Taking some blood from the cut, he smeared it like a path from my lips all the way to the middle of my breasts.

Deep breaths escaped my lips as I got lost on the tiny goosebumps that went through my body.He towered over me like a lion holding its prey.

His fingers glided over my breasts with a feather like touch and glided lower to my belly. The path was going lower and it felt like we were both in a trance. As he was getting closer to my cunt, I felt a fluttering feeling grow. I couldn’t help but let small moans escape my mouth.

The small trance broke. Pulling away his fingers away from me,he was about to stand but I wouldn’t let him leave. Not to Maris or Rhaena. No more running away from me.

I brought my hand to the back of his neck and pushed him back to me while I got up.His lips met mine and it was an immediate addiction. I could feel the small roughness of his stubble on me and I wanted more.I pressed myself against him and pulled him as close as he can

Little moans escaped me lips when I felt the hardness of his cock near my cunt.

“ We have to stop” he pulled away breathless but I wanted more.

Pulling him back to, I wrapped my legs around his waist to not let him escape. He however had different plans. He pushed me away again and stepped back and turned away from me

“No, we can’t. I am bethroed and so are you. You aren’t thinking straight. We have to stop” he repeated like he wanted to convince himself

“Look at me Lucerys” I whispered and repeated. I loosened my night clothes to expose my breasts and pulled up my dress to show my cunt.

“Look at me...Please” I whimpered. I wanted him to touch me.

Once he heard my whimper he turned around and was left stunned at the view I gave him.

“Please make me feel good, taoba” I whimpered more and let my hand go down to my wet cunt and started to touch myself.

I could see the inner battle within himself was lost. He walked slowly to me and once he got to the edge he got on his knees.Pulling my legs to the edge of the bed , I felt his breath hit my cunt.

My heart was beating fast and I let out a loud moan when I felt the first lick. He was restless and started to lick at my folds like a starved man. I wanted to close my legs from all the pleasure but he was holding them apart. I was left to grab his hair with my hands as I let out moans like the whores in flee bottom.

I released into his mouth and he stood up. I was too weak to get up and only looked at him. A little yelp left my lips as he grabbed my night clothes and ripped them in half to reveal my naked front.

“Such a nice view” he smirked as he leaned down to take one breast into his mouth to suck and bite while he played with the other. More moans escaped my lips while “more” and “please” escaped as well.

“Are you a whore or a maiden?” he taunted as he stoped playing with my breasts and instead started to play with my folds. I could feel myself getting wetter.

“A maiden” I breathlessly replied. No one has ever touched me and only I resorted to my own fingers

“Good. Cause this cunt will now only belong to me” he said as he took away his fingers and put them in his mouth. He took his bottoms and shirt off to reveal his body and his cock.

My eyes could only look as his cock which he drew near my cunt.

“Yes” I whispered. He pushed into me and I couldn’t help but scream a little at the burning feeling of being stretched out. He stopped moving in order to let me adjust.

He leaned down to kiss my lips and whispered in my ear. “ Tell me when to move”. I wrapped my arms around his neck , as well as my legs around his waist. After a couple minutes passed, I whispered “now”

He began to thrust deeper and harder which drew more moans from me. I was being pounded at such a fast pace that I couldn’t form a single thought and was left a blubbering mess.yes yes yes

He was hitting all the right spots and felt like I could barely catch my breath. I finally released with a loud moan and he released in me with a groan. I had to catch my breath and could feel him breathing by my ear.

Standing up he pulled out of me and I lazily smiled but it was wiped away. We weren’t done.

“Now be a good girl and turn around,” he said as he turned me around on my knees. My arms gave out and made me present to him like a bitch in heat. More

He held me up by my hips as he entered me again and again. Brutal thrusts that brought so much pleasure.

Lucerys….Lucerys…..Lucerys

I gasped out at the feeling of him cumming. He towered over my body. Spreading little kisses along my neck and back.

As he turned me around to see him and he me. I could see the desire that was still in his dark eyes.

I created a monster

There was no surface he didn't take me again and again. We did it against the wall, on the dresser, by the fireplace, on the couches, and again on the bed.

Moans and small gasps left as I rode him. He held my waist with strength that would leave more bruises on my pale skin. As I looked down I couldn't help but smile at the bruises I left on him.

He let go of my waist and pulled me down to him so his lips would connect with mine once again and held me close with one hand around my waist like he was afraid I would disappear and the other holding my hair to deepen the kiss.

Once he came for the last time we separated with one last peck.

I lay on his chest hearing his heartbeat while staring at the wall. He still held me protectively against him as he slept. After some time sleep caught on me.

Rustling woke me up from my slumber and I turned around to see it was still dark. I turned back around to see Luke dressing up. He still didn't notice I was sitting up and looking at him. No

"What are you doing?" I whispered to him as fear consumed me

He stopped his movements without turning around.

"Im leaving," he said without turning. Bastard

There was a long silence. I was scared for the first time. weak

"You used me," I said as I stood from the bed as a sheet covered me.

He still wouldn't look at me." You used me!" I shouted as small tears gathered around my eyes. weak

" You used me for your pleasure. Mother was right! You are beast who takes advantage of people!"I shouted at him again as a few tears fell. Weak

"I'm not!" he shouted back as he turned around with tears in his eyes

"Then why are you leaving?" I whispered back as I held tighter to the sheets. My only protection left. WHORE

"Why are you leaving me?" I cried "Am I not enough?"WEAK

He came closer and pulled me closer to him, and with one hand on my cheek. Like a lover would.

"I don't want to leave you" he whispered as he looked me in my eyes.

"I don't want to forget this... I want to keep on loving you" he said as more tears left my eyes

"But I know where Lord Borro's decision stands and this will come to war. We are on opposite sides and I won't force you to leave those you care for"

I cried harder at the truth. He was right. I can't leave Helena and the children with Aegon and the council of snakes. Mother was losing it as more time passed. It was chaos but I couldn't let them die. But I did not want Luke to leave and see him be bonded with Rhaena.

All these thoughts we swarming my head but it came to a stop when I felt Luke give me a kiss. It was passionate and loving but I could feel our tears mixing. DON'T GO

He pulled away with a sad smile

"Maybe in another life my love" he said as he turned and left the room.

STAY

DONT GO

PLEASE

MY LOVE

I kept wiping my tears but more kept falling. Breath

It won't end like this

Lucerys's POV

Looking around every corner I made sure there were no knights to be alerted. I have to get out of here and get to Arrax. Coward

Every step became heavier as I got farther away from Aemma. Rhaena was my bethroth but Aemma was my heart.

As I got closer to Arrax I could hear his chirps but I was still hesitant to leave.

Lightning struck and it got quiet for a bit, and easier for me to hear footsteps running and coming closer

I turned around ready to fight whoever tried to stop me. But my heart started to beat faster.

Aemma ran with tears in her eyes and determination

"wh-" without a single beat she brought her lips to mine as she put her arms around my neck and I held her by the waist.

When we separated I couldn't let her go yet. She looked into my eyes as I looked into her purple one and the stone. Beautiful

"Take me with you." she said as she broke the silence

" What about the others?," I asked surprised

" We will prevent war from breaking and ensure my family's safety"

I was silent for a bit because I didn't know what to say. My mother would hurt them, especially Alicent

"Please Lucerys.. promise me" she whispered to me as she held me tighter

"I promise" I whispered back as I kissed her again

" Be my wife?" I whispered as we separated.

She looked shocked by my question but a small blush decorated her beautiful face

"What about Rhaena?"

" I dont love her the way I do you my Jorraelza"

Aemma's Pov

I smiled at his proposal

"yes Lucerys, I will be your wife" I smiled at him

"Lets go Valzȳrys," I said as I pulled him

"After you Ābrazȳrys" He smiled back at me without letting go.

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.

It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.

It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."

Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."

(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)

They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"

I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:

Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits

I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:

Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves

Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.

I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.

I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.

Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.

Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.

Firebird:

it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)

Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.

Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.

So is Yoda.

Willow:

Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me

Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.

I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.

"Hanging out with the little SiL!"

Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.

And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"

ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.

Firebird:

"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."

Willow:

Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets

So, to make the timeline work...

I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.

So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.

Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.

At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.

That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.

Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.

Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.

Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.

He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.

Firebird:

Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.

"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"

Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.

So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."

Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]

Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."

Willow:

Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.

Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.

Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.

IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?

Per @atagotiak on discord:

Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."

Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.

"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"

Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression

Firebird:

I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.

I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."

AND one of them Steals Boba

I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.

Not as goofy as Anakin, though.

Firebird:

Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?

#Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Obi Wan Kenobi #Disaster Lineage #Sheev Palpatine #Skeevy Sheev #cloning #Yoda #Mace Windu #Skysisters AU #trans anakin skywalker #Phoenix Posts #hive mind #Padme Amidala #Anidala

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prodtrouver · 3 years ago

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🔥 . . . TXT has Genshin Impact vision . . . !

↳ txt x genshin impact :: fluff, a speck of angst :: mentions of hurt/injury/pain :: mentions of sickness

— all I've been doing is playing genshin impact since I was slowly getting tired of writing stories,, so here's a txt x genshin impact crossover

🔥 . . . yeonjun :: pyro vision

Yeonjun has always been a passionate man, ever since he was young

A boy who grew up in the nation ruled by the God of war, Natlan

He had a difficult time adjusting in the land of pyro but he was able to adjust well, thanks to his parents

Even after the archon war, Natlan continued to be passionate about battles of honor and victory

Yeonjun thought it didn't matter at first but eventually, grew to love the honor he bestowed upon himself

He learned how to wield a claymore

He fought in battles to prove his worth and his family's honor

Yeonjun went up against on of the Nation's best warriors

And oh archons, it costed him great pain

He was on the brink of giving up

But he continues to fight, despite being in pain and all filed up with injuries

At the end of the battle, he won

Although, to keep his and his family's honor was already a great prize

The lad checked what was suddenly making his pocket heavy

A pyro vision was in his pocket

OTHERS UNDER THE CUT . . . !

🌪️. . . soobin :: anemo vision

Soobin was just a merchant who found peace in the land of wind, Monstadt

Compared to the cold climates of his homeland, Snezhnaya — Monstadt grew on his cold heart

He decided to settle in Monstadt and became part of the Knights of Favonius

Although, he thought himself of not big of a use because he has no vision

That's what he continued to think until he stumbled upon a child about to be attacked by an eye of the storm

Despite hurting himself in the process, he managed to let the child run away

He may not have a vision but being able to master the bow was helping him

But then again, he had no vision

And it was only a matter of time, the wind currents from the monster had caused him great pain

Still, the lad persisted until more knights came to his aid

Although, the knights managed to beat the eye of the storm, they were injured

If only he had a vision, he could've made things easier for them

"oh hey, the winds - what? I'm healed!? Soobin is healed too!"

When they turned to Soobin, a familiar teal amulet fell onto the boy's hands

He had received an anemo vision for healing

🪨 . . . beomgyu :: cryo vision

Beomgyu was born in Inazuma but fled to Liyue, the land of geo, to escape his family's fate of being married to unknown

He never understood the must do's and dont's of his own nation

He received help to escape from a captain who let him stay on their ship for travels

With the help of Crux Fleet, he was able to find pure bliss with the people around him

But of course, being on a ship that was meant to travel different nations means having to return to his homeland from time to time

Everytime, Beomgyu returns to Inazuma, he only goes to Ritou and never anywhere else

When Beomgyu was walking around Ritou, he stumbled upon a frantic lady

And when she turned to Beomgyu, she ran up to him and begged for him to help

The lady told him the location of where she needed help and Beomgyu excused himself to his captain

When he got to the shores of the beach, there he saw a ruin guard about to attack two children

Learning how to wield a sword with his captain helped him,

however, without a vision he doesn't know of he could quickly defeat the ruin guard

If he couldn't defeat the ruin guards then might as well grab the children and run away

So that was his plan but with misfortune on his side, as soon as he grabbed the children to run away —

The ruin guard had fired his missiles towards them but instead of feeling pain, Beomgyu only felt cold

When he looked around him, he and the children was surrounded by a cryo shield

He looked at the place where his omamori hanged...

There hanged an Inazuman Cryo Vision

🪨 . . . taehyun :: geo vision

born in the land of geo, Liyue

Taehyun handles his family business very well since they are in the nation of contracts and business people

Taehyun has seen people prosper and fall with or without visions

He didn't want to have one

To have a vision means people will start telling you that every successful thing you do, it's all because of your vision

He prefers to have his hard work noticed than the vision granted to him

It was just another normal day in Liyue

The lad was headed off to The Chasm to collect the ores found for his family's business

He always felt uncertain because of the dangers thay lies within the grounds of The Chasm

Once he made it to the mines, there he saw how the people coming out of the chasm are being cautious

After all, if too much movement was made, some rocks can cause an earthquake, resulting to a possible rockslide

He was fortunate to bring his polearm with him

Since there was no adeptus to guard the chasms

He was greeted by a few miners who was pleased with his presence

When he heard a scream, he immediately dropped his things and ran down the stairs to see one of the miners about to be attacked by a geovishap hatchling

Taehyun was about to throw his polearm at the hatchling before he noticed a faint glow coming from his glove

Before he could react, his polearm had hit the geovishap hatchling and stone surrounded the enemy, resulting to its defeat

Taehyun'a gaze dropped to his glove and his eyes widened in surprise

There, placed a geo vision that he did not want

⚡ . . . huening kai :: electro vision

Just like Taehyun, the Inazuman lad didn't care much about a vision

In fact, he was already contented with his peaceful life

There was no harm, no danger nor any necessary thing that required a vision

The only thing Kai wished he has was mora to help his sick mother get better or better, cured from her illness

His siblings was in different nations for their own job to help his mother, even his father wasn't in Inazuma as well

Kai learned how to socialize with people that his mother did not want him to get involve with

Politicians, scammers, unfair traders... Just bad people he shouldn't be talking to

But for the sake of his mother's medicine, he needed to

He wanted help her get better, to protect her

If only he could go out of the city to fetch better herbs and medicine then he should've a long time ago

One day, his mother had become very sick, to the point Kai thought she was nearing her last breath

Traders and other men did not want to help

The rain storm was only getting stronger

Determined to heal his sick mother, he went out in the storm to gather the said herbs, no matter how dangerous it

Yes, he had tripped multiple times and he was lucky enough to escape the monsters in the area

But when he tripped once more, he was seen by a Cryo Abyss Mage

That was when Kai immediately got up and grabbed tbe medicine for his mother but the abyss mage had already teleported to his side

Kai looked around to see a catalyst on top of a common chest, not only that but an electro vision pendant was placed right beside it

Dodging the attacks of the abyss mage, he grabbed the catalyst and the vision

It only took him a matter of time until he defeated the abyss mage

He felt a slight itch with the vision he was holding

It was growing brightly

Just like the ambition to heal the mother of its owner, Huening Kai

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monamourbladie-mb · 4 years ago

Text

19 Years Later... (Darth Vader x reader miniseries chapter 1)

19 years have passed since Y/n’s husband Anakin’s death, and she has become the leading General of the newly founded Rebellion alongside her past Jedi friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Kenobi. When her children Luke and Leia Skywalker gets kidnapped by Darth Vader, the man who killed her husband; her and Obi-Wan Kenobi must come rescue her. But when she finds out who’s behind Darth Vader’s mask, the truth is something she never thought she had to prepare herself for.

——————

Index:

1. prologue

2. chapter 1

3. chapter 2 [Coming soon]

wc: 2.3k

warnings: cursing

——————

Being the leader of the new Rebellion against the evil Galactic Empire had its perks. One of the things that was not a perk, however, was hiding one’s actual name from their people, and past.

None of Y/n’s rebels knew of her past as a former Jedi Knight that fought in the Clone Wars. Though she fought like a cunning warrior, the thought had never once crossed their minds, seeing as all the Jedi were dead.

She had raised her children Luke and Leia with Obi-Wan’s guidance to be trained as Jedi, seeing as both of them were very Force-Sensitive.

Watching Luke wield his father’s lightsaber brought such bittersweet feelings to both old Jedi Knights. Anakin was such a big part of both of their lives, that it was almost painful to see this without him there.

Anakin would be beyond proud of his son and daughter, for sure.

Y/n recalled the first time he and Leia held their lightsabers. They were both 9, the same age their Father was when he was brought him by Qui-Gon Jyn from Tattooine.

Luke had rushed up to Obi’s old trunk excitedly, admiring the strange silver object with big eyes as Leia crowded behind him, “What’s that, Uncle Obi?”

“This is your father’s lightsaber, my dear. He would’ve wanted you to have it,” Obi replied, a sad smile on his face as he held onto the hilt, activating its stellar blue glow.

“This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster—“ Obi handed it to Luke and his eyes widened, waving it around gently so he didn’t break it. “—an elegant weapon for a more civilized age.”

“Is it mine?” Luke’s eyes beamed in excitement. Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down as he picked up Leia, putting her on his knee.

“For over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice. The old republic. Before the Empire...” he trailed off, turning his head towards the window.

Y/n rushed into the room, hearing the lightsaber and fearing there was an intruder, “Obi-Wan! What’s going on, I’m—“ she ignited her brilliant (l/c) saber, holding it in a protective stance before she realized it was just Luke. She sighed heavily and disengaged her saber, attaching it back to her belt loop, “Obi, you didn’t tell me you were doing this now...” she crossed her arms.

“Mom! Obi-Wan told me this was Dad’s! Look!” he started swinging it gently, making sure it didn’t hit anyone since he knew how deadly they could be. She began to smile sadly as she remembered a young Anakin as a padawan, rushing in to show her his lightsaber he constructed the day he finally got one.

She smiled sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. “You look so much like your father, Luke,” she said sadly. Obi looked back at Luke, and for a split moment, he was reminded of the small slave his old master brought back with him. He smiled to himself remembering how he helped Anakin with his padawan braid.

“Princess, come here. I’ll let you hold my lightsaber, okay?” she handed Leia her saber gently, and she took gingerly from her hand. Leia took it and igniting it, the blade’s glow reflecting in her excited little eyes.

“Mom? How did dad die? You never answered me,” Luke asked. Y/n felt herself freeze in place, a large lump in her throat forming. “Luke, I...”

“I’ll tell them, Y/n,” Obi-Wan replied solemnly. “Your father was killed by a young Jedi named Darth Vader. He was a close friend of mine before he fell. He helped the Emperor hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father.” The room fell silent, until Luke asked another question, “So you and Uncle Obi are the last remaining Jedi?”

Obi-Wan shook his head no, “There are others, but sparse. To name a few, Master Yoda and Ahsoka Tano, your father’s Padawan learner. The last remaining Jedi are being hunted down by Vader, which is why we hide.”

Leia spoke up softly, “Is that why we don’t use our actual last name, mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart. As long as Vader’s reign continues, we must hide our names. Darth Vader does not know about the two of you, so you are safe. For us, on the other hand...” she trailed off, and the kids understood.

“Mom... Mom,” Leia spoke loudly. Y/n blinked in confusion and turned back around, looking at her daughter, “Yeah, my love?”

“Are you okay mom?” Leia asked, frowning. “We need to look at the Death Star plans.”

“Right,” she sighed heavily, turning to face from the window out looking Yavin 4. “I’m fine, princess. I just... was remembering Anakin, that’s all.” Leia sighed and laid her hand on her mother’s back, rubbing it gently, “Dad would be proud of everything you’ve done, mom.” She began to tear up as she pulled Leia into a tight hug, “I hope so. It’s been about 20 years and it still doesn’t feel right,” silent tears fell down her cheeks into her daughter’s bunned hair.

“I’m proud of you, Leia. If you were to be trained within the Order now, you’d be the same age your father was when he became a Jedi Knight, and when he married me...” she sniffled, wiping her tears. Leia smiled softly, holding her mom’s hand, “Do you think he’d be proud of me, too?”

“I know he would,” she rubbed her fingertips against hers, “He would pull you into the tightest hug, spin you a little and say softly, ‘That’s my baby girl,’” she replied, her voice cracking slightly. Leia began to tear up as she hugged her back, “I wish I knew him...” she said softly. “I wish so too, babe, so bad...” Y/n sighed. But I won’t let his memory be in vain. Let’s go look at these plans and destroy that Death Star, yeah?”

Leia and Y/n walked to the main board room, seeing how the map was already up on display. “General Jonas, we’ve been examining the Death Star plans. They’re on screen now,” one of her commanding officers recited. “Good, thank you, officer. Have we discovered a weak point yet? Or at least some form of entry point?”

“No, ma’am. We haven’t studied long enough. There are many ways in, but all most likely heavily guarded. We will have to find a way to go under the radar without getting detected, somehow,” he replied. She nodded, walking closer to examine it. She closed her eyes and felt out through the Force for some answer. No surprise to her, she could barely feel anything at all but an empty void. Ever since Anakin had died, she had felt more distanced from the Force than ever. Maybe she and Anakin possessed a rare Dyad, or maybe she had simply lost touch with the Force; but no matter what she did, she was nowhere near as powerful in the Force as she used to be.

“Alert me if you find anything, Officer, I would love to have this Death Star in shambles by the end of the month,” Y/n left to walk out and to ask Obi-Wan on the matter. “Yes, ma’am,” he responded, turning back to his computer to get back to work.

Elsewhere, Leia was pacing in Luke’s room, grumbling to herself, “I know Obi-Wan has taught us to not let our emotions guide us, but I can’t when it comes to him. He killed our father, he should be dead!” Leia huffed in anger, collapsing down onto her twin’s bed.

Luke grunted in response, his mouth full of food still, “It’s not like you can take him on yourself. You’d die!” he said, or at least, sounded like he said. “I will not let the lives of those lost who got us the plans in the first place’s memories die. We wouldn’t be this close to planning an attack without their sacrifices. Moreover, Mom has had these plans for two days now, and she hasn’t done a single thing about it!” Leia responded quickly. Luke shrugged, “Leia. Be real. It’s not like we can steal a ship and fly to the Death Star, find it’s a weak point, and get back in time for dinner.”

Leia sat up, looking at Luke as if he had just committed mass murder. “...What?” Luke asked warily. Leia grinned, “That’s it! We’ll do just that, Luke! We’ll take one of mom’s ships, fly around the death star undetected and find weak entry points, and get back like we were never even gone!”

“Leia, you can not be serious right now!” Luke gasped, setting his food down, “We can’t do this, we could get in so much trouble! Or spotted!”

“Do you want to sit idly while our mother and uncle do nothing, whereas our Father’s murderer is out on the lose on that moon!” Leia snapped at him. He narrowed his eyes, “That’s no moon, Leia. Also, no, I don’t! But do we have a choice? No. We’re staying here.”

“No, we’re leaving. Whether I go alone is up to you entirely, but at this point, I just want the man who killed my father dead,” Leia said, glaring at him. Luke huffed, “You think I don’t want him dead, too? But we are children, we literally can’t do anything!”

“We are 19 years old and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sit at home here and wait for Vader to kill more innocent people,” Leia frowned, crossing her arms. “I really need you with me, Luke. But I get it if you don’t go.” she stood up, grabbing her stuff to leave when Luke grumbled “Wait!” under his breath. “I’ll... go. Just to protect you. But this is a bad idea, and I don’t want to get caught,” he raised a brow to her. Leia grinned and hugged Luke tightly, “Thank you, thank you! You won’t regret this! But bring your lightsaber maybe, just in case?”

——————

“What do you mean, YOU LET THEM GO?” Y/n snapped to C3-PO, enraged. Threepio raised his hands in defense, “I couldn’t stop them, mistress! I tried my best, I swear!”

“You let my children go confront Vader ALONE? You’re so lucky I don’t shut you down for that!” she growled, shoving past him with Obi-Wan following close behind her. “Oh, dear. I’m doomed,” Threepio whined.

“We have to go after them, we... I can’t... I can’t lose my kids,” Y/n said nervously, starting to pace once Obi got close. “Y/n, calm down sweetheart. I need you to breathe and think,” Obi said, holding onto her shoulders gently. “If we go, we have an equal chance of being caught since they’ll already be on high alert.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “I hate you for being so levelheaded and smart, Obi,” she frowned. “That’s my specialty,” he winked. “Now, we need to stop and make sure that we can pull this rescue off without risking our lives, too.”

Meanwhile, at the Death Star, Vader was summoned by his leading captain because of an alert of an enemy ship flying nearby. “Bring them in, search them. They may know General Jonas.” “Yes, My Lord.”

Vader turned to leave the bridge towards the docking bay, to meet his guests personally. As he walked, his mind was filled with visions and memories from his dream the night before. Of her.

He sighed heavily, picking up speed as he neared the docking bay. Passing a group of stormtroopers, he pushed past them to be in front, crossing his arms. The door opened, and two stormtroopers walked out holding a young girl and boy, yelling at them to let go of them.

As soon as Vader looked at the two, he felt something... strange. A certain presence in the Force he had never felt before. What is this? Why do they feel familiar?

Vader dropped his arms, walking forward and raising his hand to stop the troopers, “Who are you? And why were you near my Death Star?”

His unmerciful, robotic voice rumbled through their chests, terrifying them. In all their years, they had never seen something so cold and unforgiving. “Don’t be petrified, answer me if you want to live,” Vader challenged, staring right at the boy.

“You killed our father,” Leia’s voice was cold, sad, and broken. She knew this was a bad idea, but it was too late now. “I wanted revenge.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, my princess, but I’ve killed many men. Your father was just another tick on my list, whoever he may be.”

“You son of a—!” Luke yelled, rushing to jump at him when the stormtroopers all turned their weapons on him, making him stop. Vader growled, “Insolent children. I don’t think you know who I am, truly. I’d crush you in a heartbeat, but seeing as you could have something of use to me... take them away, both of them,” Vader commanded. The two shouted in disagreement, and Vader simply stood and watched them struggle.

“You bitch! You’ll pay for what you did to our dad!” Luke yelled as he was taken away. Vader rolled his eyes from under the mask and walked back to his quarters. He knelt on the floor, taking his mask off as he called out to his Emperor through the force.

“What do you want, Lord Vader?” Palpatine growled, looking down at Vader’s hologram. “I felt something through the Force a few moments ago. My new hostages... they seem to be strong with it.”

“Really? Are you sure, my apprentice?”

“Yes, Master. More sure than anything.”

“Well, you know what you must do. Kill them. They could be Jedi if they tried opposing you,” Palpatine smirked. “They’re only children, which means they’re newer Jedi. Someone had to have trained them.”

“Children never stopped you before, don’t let it stop you now. Do it.”

“...Yes, my Master.” Vader ended the holomessage, sighing.

“Who are you two...?” he asked himself, reaching out through the Force and feeling they were still there.

Strange.

——————

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megashadowdragon · 3 years ago

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Lancelot had a (b)romance with the half-giant king, Galehaut. Some fun stories about them

Galehaut's forces were laying siege to king Arthur's and looked as though they may prevail but before clinching victory, Galehaut offered surrender on the condition that the mighty black knight who fought so valiantly (Lancelot) become his friend. Arthur accepted the terms then Lancelot and Galehaut adventured together.

Galehaut helped cover for Lancelot and Guinevere, allowing them to use his castle for secret meetings.

He later encouraged Lancelot to move somewhere else where he could be with her even though it meant they'd never see each other again (his giant blood and own kingdom meant he couldn't leave).

Upon (false) news that Lancelot had died, Galehaut is said to have died of either loneliness or heartbreak (Lancelot had been kidnapped then driven mad so it wasn't completely implausible).

When Lancelot died, instead of being buried next to any of his three-ish wives, he chose to be laid to rest in the grave Galehaut set aside for the two of them so that they could be side by side for the rest of time

Gilgamesh is an architect nerd

Heracles madness and invulnerability isn't just due to his labours and being too strong to control

He had an actual moment of pure madness due to his invulnerability, his wife gifted him an undershirt that had been soaked in the blood of a centaur that tried to rape her, Heracles killed the centaur with an arrow coated in hydra blood, the hydras blood was deadly to all living things except those of divinity, the centaur knowing why it was dying told her if she felt her husband was cheating on her all she had to do was make him wear the cloth and he would fall completely in love with her and she gave him it as a gift

The hydra blood poisoned him but due to his inability to die he was stuck in perpetual pain and death with no cure he was eventually driven mad, during his madness he hit one of his friends so hard he sent them hurtling into the ocean, during his madness he commanded the building of an enormous pyre which once completed he threw himself on top of and set it on fire, hoping to burn his body into nothingness before it could heal and release him from the poison

I've never heard of a telling of Atalanta's story that has her die in that incident. Every version I've seen that includes that incident says that the two of them were transformed into lions.

As has been mentioned in other comments, FGO did address the existence of Chrysaor in Gorgon's Bond CE, and Mordred proposing to Guinevere, IIRC, is brought up in Fate/Apocrypha.

As for others...

While only addressed in the FGO Materials (and said materials note that it's unclear if this applies in the Nasuverse), some tales say that Medea and Achilles were once married.

There's one tale that happens before Heracles' labours, where he is tasked to hunt a supernatural lion (not the Nemean one). One version has him be rewarded for his success by being allowed to sleep with all 50 of the local king's daughters - Heracles beds and impregnates 49 in one night, and the only reason he didn't go for a full 50 is because one of the daughters wasn't DTF like the other 49. The other version has the hunt take 50 days, and each night Heracles is permitted to sleep with the king's eldest daughter... except they've plotted such that in the darkness, each night a different sister would crawl into bed with him, resulting in all of the sisters getting pregnant.

Heracles spent a couple of years as a lover to a snake-woman (who may or may not have been Echidna) during one of his labours (she was keeping Heracles' horses captive, and wouldn't let them free until she'd had three kids from him). One of their sons, Scythes, became the serpent-woman's heir, and is said to be the king for whom the Scythians were named. The other two sons either joined or founded other neighbouring tribes.

Going by Le Morte d'Arthur, Gareth gets really violent with cock-blockers (or, I suppose in the Nasuverse, clam-jammers). The first time, the intruder got their head cut off, but Gareth ended up being stabbed in the thigh and that ruined sexy-times. The second time, Gareth cut the intruder's head off, broke the skull into itty-bitty pieces, and threw them all into a moat... but sexy-times got ruined again because the fight re-opened the previous thigh-wound and the blood-loss nearly killed Gareth.

solomon and sheba

It varies depending on which version of Arthurian legend it is, but in Thomas Malory’s version, upon learning that mordred is an incest bastard, and Merlins prophecy that mordred will destroy Arthur and his kingdom, Arthur puts every baby born on the same day as mordred on boats and sends them away in hopes they all die, which obviously doesn’t work. I enjoy it because it makes mordreds hatred of his father a bit more understandable, and while he’s still a pretty bad dude, I feel for him a bit. Although in fate, mordred is my favorite character so I’m a little biased towards both her, and her actual counterpart

Arjuna

- "Endowed Hero" is a bullshit title. Arjuna and his brothers, due to being son of Pandu, was forced to be exiled and live in poverty for 14 years.

- Among Drona's student, he is the bravest among them. Even Karna's reason to study more under Parasurama was due to his jealousness toward Arjuna.

- Yudhistira is strong in using chariot and spear, Bhima in using mace, Arjuna in archery, Nakula and Sahadev in using sword. Despite all of that, Arjuna is better in technique than all of them in their respective forte.

- He got his astras by doing wrestle with Mahadev himself

- Among the youngling during Kurukshetra war (it means excluding Drona, Parasurama, and such. Oh, excluding Krishna as well), only Arjuna have fought non-human enemies and won.

Karna

- He's always the one with the obsession to beat Arjuna, not otherwise. Always want to be acknowledged.

- It's true that his armor is immune to everything thrown by Gandiva and even Chakra Sudharsana itself, but doesn't mean Karna is unbeatable. What impossible is to kill Karna, not beat him. Karna already loses 2 times against Arjuna before Kurukshetra war, either fainting or fled.

- Once Karna fought against Bhima. This battle happened years after Karna trade his armor with Vasavi Shakti. Both participants fought with normal weapon. No astras. No gods interference. No blessings. Bhima beat him so hard that Ashvattama needs to carry him.

In Greek mythology, Heracles was given another trial for some reason and he was given to a queen for said trial. The queen tried to humiliate him by making him dress up in women’s clothing and do knitting while she would dress up in his Nemean lion pelt and go into battle, essentially reversing gender roles. Well it turned out that the plan backfired on the queen as Heracles actually came to enjoy knitting. He said it was a calming exercise for him, so he actually found a new hobby out of this trial instead of humiliation. Needless to say that I would find it hilarious if we found berserker Heracles knitting a sweater for one of the children and ritsuka and mash catch him in the act. Just imagining a hulking behemoth like that knitting would be a hilarious image.

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dolliedarlin · 4 years ago

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i m p l i c i t ⏤katsuki b.

p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader

s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible

l e n g t h : 1.9k

g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this

w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting

a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it!

— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children

— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other

— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like

— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times

— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc

— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing

— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that

— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things

— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights

— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?

— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself

— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her

— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough

— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays.

— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice

— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour.

— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly

— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.

— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.

— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,”

— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood.

— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished.

— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.

— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it

— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero).

— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training

— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.

— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.

— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response

— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!”

— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him.

— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”

— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping

— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again

— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired

— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation

— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side

— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind

— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.

— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords

— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry

— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights.

— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.

— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde.

— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.

— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist

— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”

n a v i . | bnha mlist

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #bnha olden days au #bnha fantasy au

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starkskypines · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Kylie! Your prompts look so cool!

How about 19 for any Star Wars characters of your choosing?

Hi KT!!! Thank you for this prompt and sorry it took so long! Also this one is a bit long at 2k words.

19 “we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky”: you know that dinluke trope where luke and din enter a political marriage? Yeah.

>>>

There’s a moment, just a moment, where Luke feels the entire weight of Mandalorian armor with a full-size male in it crash into his body. He realizes in that singular moment that he was wrong earlier when he asserted that no Mandalorian was a match for skill in the Force. Because if this Mandalorian was actually fighting him, he would be hard-pressed to recover from a blow like this. And given how much time Mandalorians spend training to counter Jedi fighting techniques, Luke doesn’t think he’d actually be able to win a fight against a fully trained Mandalorian. He’s had limited combat training himself. Just what he learned from Rebellion fighters. He’s skilled with his lightsaber, but Mandalorians are quick to disarm. They know how to defeat a Jedi and Luke hasn’t ever thought about how to defeat a Mandalorian before. Well, perhaps Boba Fett for a second on Tatooine, but he was busy and didn’t have time to realize exactly how skilled the armored man would be had Luke had time to fight him. He’s glad he didn’t because he has a feeling that would be embarrassing. Just like it’s going to be embarrassing when Paz makes him put his words to action. For now though, they’ve got other concerns.

The weight lifts after that moment and Luke is free-falling through the air. The wind rushes across his cheeks, hurting his ears just a bit, and making his eyes water. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall. The Force allows him to be aware of the ground below, the currents of the air, Paz fighting nearby, Din moving beside him. Both of them quiet confidence and brutal efficiency. Din is softer than Paz though, but Luke thinks he’s biased. Din is his husband after all.

Luke lands gracefully on the ground thanks to the Force slowing his fall. He looks back up to the clifftop where Din and Paz are still fighting. He can’t be of much help to them down here, but he doesn’t really think they need his help. Not like that. Sure they need him to strengthen ties to the Republic, but they don’t really need his skills as a Jedi. He’s glad they don’t hate him for that though, not like they used to in the beginning of all this.

But still, Luke isn’t one to sit out of a fight. So he gathers the Force around him and hops his way up the hundred-foot cliff to rejoin the fray.

The fight is over quickly when it’s a bunch of pirates against two Mandalorians and a Jedi.

***

“So, you want to reconsider your position on being able to take me down after seeing me fight?” Paz asks.

They’re cooking food over the campfire. Din claimed that Paz is the best cook, so just let him do it. Luke doesn’t like being unhelpful, but he allows Paz to cook. He was raised on Tatooine so his abilities allow him to make edible food but nothing that really excites the palate.

“I did challenge you.” Luke isn’t going to back down now, even if it means he gets his butt kicked in front of a public crowd. “But yes, I am worried I might lose.”

“Might?” Paz scoffs under the helmet. “Jetii, you will lose.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we.” Luke smirks, something Leia says makes him look like an infuriating child who’s been listening to Han for too long.

“Sorry about pushing you off the cliff.” Paz shrugs. “Thought you’d live but still, Din says I should’ve warned you first or something.”

“It’s rude to push people off cliffs,” Din says.

“I was fine. It was fun actually. You know we might be able to turn that into something to be used during a fight. If we have to drop in, or fight from ship to ship in mid-air. You’ve got the jetpack, but I’ve got the Force so mid-air fighting could have some interesting possibilities.”

Paz laughs. “You bet we can work on that. You’re sticking around this time right? Didn’t come just to challenge me to a fight?”

“I’ve got time to stay. I can’t get funding to search out Jedi temples and artifacts until next year, so I’ve got a little while to get to know Mandalorian customs.”

“Well, rule one, we don’t take off the helmets,” Paz says although Luke already knows that and scoops out a bowl of stew and hands it to Luke.

“Thank you,” Luke says and stands to go find somewhere else to eat.

He settles down against a rock that overlooks a small clearing in the forest. It’s a fairly rocky world, giant rocks forming cliff faces, and other smaller ones dotting the landscape, a break against the green and brown of the grass fields and forests.

Luke has almost finished his bowl of soup when Din joins him. It’s not unusual for the armored man to seek him out. Usually to discuss something related to politics or culture or Grogu. Now that conversation had almost ruined the marriage. Din said no to training and Luke pushed and well...it had almost come to blows. Luke is a Jedi. He knows how to help Grogu. Sometimes he wishes he could do more, but that’s not his role here. One of the first Force-sensitives he finds and he can’t hardly speak to the child. It’s a good lesson for the future though. The Jedi’s reputation as child-snatchers is pervasive.

Din is quiet as he settles against the rock, his shoulder brushing Luke’s briefly before he pulls away. It’s the most touching Luke ever gets from him. He’s not sure he exactly wants more, but something warmer would be nice. But again, there’s only one point to this marriage, and it’s not Luke’s happiness.

“Why do you want to find Jedi temples?” Din asks.

“I’m a Jedi, and I hardly know anything about our culture. A lot was erased by the Empire. If I’m to train the next generation of knights, then I need to know what kind of people I’m inviting them to become. You can be Force-sensitive without being a Jedi. You can get training without being a Jedi. It’s a choice you have to make. I want to make sure everyone is informed before making that choice.”

“You can train as a Jedi and not be a Jedi?”

It’s not hard for Luke to see who he’s thinking of, but he doesn’t want to break the calm by bringing up Grogu.

“Yes. I’ve trained Leia how to control her powers and how to a do a few other things she was interested in. She doesn’t have the time to really be a Jedi, but she can’t just let her skills die out when they can be useful to her in any career.”

Din is quiet. “Grogu can’t sleep at night. I think it’s something Force-related.” Din pauses, and Luke gives him time to work out the correct words. “Could you–could you help?”

Luke nods and keeps his attention on the trees on the other side of the clearing. “I can try. What makes you think it’s Force-related?”

“Things move.”

Luke nods. “Let me talk to him when we get back, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“Not alone.”

“No, not alone. You’d be there of course,” Luke pauses and can’t help but adding, “I’m not trying to separate families. I’m building something different than the old Order.”

“You know you could get anything you wanted if you threatened him.”

Luke turns to Din then. “You think I’d do that?”

Din shrugs.

Luke turns away. He can’t really blame Din for thinking that. Jedi don’t have a good reputation in Mandalorian circles, let alone the son of Darth Vader. Clearly he can’t be trusted. The minute that little tidbit came out he and Leia lost a lot of standing in the New Republic. He’d convinced Leia to spin it so that it looked like Luke was the one more like Vader. The black clothes, the lightsaber, the fact that Luke had spent time alone with Vader and the Emperor on the second Death Star. It took the heat off Leia enough that she could make headway in the Senate, but the rumors and distrust still haunted them both.

“Maybe not, but if the New Republic asked you to.”

Luke wants to laugh at the absurdity, but here he is married to a Mandalorian because the New Republic asked him. It’s not his fault he was the only one that knew the Mandalor and his son. The seeing stone worked, but Din had changed his mind by the time Luke responded to the call.

“Well, I’m not in the business of betraying my husband,” Luke finally responds.

It’s silent as the insects begin to chirp, their symphony drowning out the silence. Luke should be the one to head back to camp, but he always feels the way Paz and Din don’t want him there. He aches for the day he can make a place of his own where he is wanted. Not even as a friend. He has Han and Leia and Chewie for that. But maybe as a leader, or just someone helpful, just someone that can be trusted.

“I don’t remember much about my parents,” Din starts suddenly, “Hardly anything in fact. But I remember when Mom and Dad fought she’d turn to him and say, ‘no, we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky.’ It was her way of ending the argument. I didn’t get it at the time, but it stuck with me. I think it means that when you lay all your cards on the table, there’s no more secrets or hidden motives that can cause arguments.”

Luke tilts his head a bit to look toward Din’s visor. He can’t make out the lines well in the darkness, but he knows Din is looking at him too.

“I can’t trust you, because I can’t trust anybody.”

“That’s a lonely way to live.”

“It’s not good for Grogu. I’m too protective, but I can’t–I can’t lose him.” Din nods once, as if coming to his own conclusion. “If he could defend himself–using the Force–”

Luke waits and Din doesn’t continue. Luke takes a risk and places his hand on Din’s arm. Din flinches but resettles.

“It will take time for you to trust me. I know. But I am willing to sit and talk the stars down from the sky as long as it takes for you to trust me. For no other reason than I think you’re right about Grogu needing to be able to protect himself, and I don’t like the air of loneliness that I get from both of you.”

Din puts his hand over Luke’s.

“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

Din shakes his head, the silver metal catching the reflection of moonlight from the rising moon. “You aren’t. You just like people to think you are.”

Luke can’t deny that, but he’s surprised that Din picked up on it.

“So why do you do that?”

Luke settles back against the rock. He goes to pull his hand away but Din holds on, and it doesn’t take much for Luke to intertwine his fingers through Din’s and open his mouth. He doesn’t think Din realizes just how much power he has over Luke in this moment because Din doesn’t know how much Luke wants Din to like him. He wants to be his friend and confidante and sometimes–like now–he wants permission to hold Din’s hand in the moonlight as the insects create a symphony that drowns out the fear that comes with opening up. Or maybe that’s just Din’s presence. The simple way he listens without judgment. The fact that Luke can sense his emotions if they spike, but otherwise he doesn’t really know what’s going on behind the mask, so Luke can pretend that it’s a soft smile and warm eyes as he tells truths very few are privy to.

#prompt fill #dinluke #this might be one of my favorite things i've written #skydalorian #luke skywalker #din djarin #dinluke fic #skydalorian fic #the mandalorian #paz viszla

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lillywillow · 4 years ago

Text

Paper Faces on Parade

Summary: A royal masquerade is being held with the purpose of finding you a husband, however, your heart is already being held by one man

Word Count: 1457

Square Filled: Royal AU

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

Warnings: An assassination attempt

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

From a young age, you were trained to take over the throne from your mother. You were taught everything from politics, to dancing, to sword fighting. Your mother wanted you to be fully prepared for anything a queen would be expected. When you came of age, she had been pushing you to find a husband, which was a royal requirement. Every potential suitor your mother set up ended the same way, a polite kiss on the hand and a broken promise to meet again. There was only one man you had in mind for your royal consort; your best friend and confidant; James Buchannan “Bucky” Barnes.

Ever since you were children, the pair of you had been close. Bucky had trained to be in the knights and worked his way up from page to sergeant. He had taught you to wield a sword and ride a horse. Whenever you had dance lessons, you requested him as your partner. Every chance either of you had, you used it to be with each other. After he had lost his arm in the war, you spent every second you could by his side and went as far as to resource a mechanical one for him so he could resume his position.

When your mother had announced that she was holding a royal ball with the sole purpose of you choosing a husband, there was no doubt in your mind who would be your choice by the end of the night.

The night of the ball had finally arrived, the night you had been partly dreading. It wasn’t that you hated these kinds of events per say, it was just that they were full of the same tedious characters you forced to mingle with. There were the clout chasers who were more interested in being seen with you than anything you actually had to say. Then there were the old blowhards who believed you should be seen, not heard and be grateful whatever man was chosen for you. In those cases you would oh so politely remind them that’s not the way your mother did it and you wouldn’t stand for it either.

One of the things you did enjoy about these formal gatherings is seeing everyone in their finery. Fabrics shimmered and flashed and jewellery sparkled in the light. There was a certain magic about it, especially tonight with everyone wearing masks. Despite the fact their faces were hidden, it was easy to spot who was whom.

Surrounded by a group of women was the inventor from the noble house of Stark. He was dressed in a metallic costume of gold and red, possibly one of his own creations.

Then there was Countess Natasha Romanoff. Her dress was obsidian save for the silver stitching which was woven throughout the fabric like spider-webs. In her hand was a plain black mask on a stick which had the symbol of a red hourglass.

You spotted one of the Asgardian princes in an emerald and gold costume with a feathered raven mask. He was speaking to Lady Wanda Maximoff. Her scarlet gown billowed around her like smoke, a lace butterfly mask daintily perched upon her face.

You could see the Wakandan king in a traditionally carved African mask in the shape of a panther. He was wearing all black although there was something unusual about the fabric in the way it shimmered purple under the light.

Throughout the night, you danced with many eligible bachelors. Some were sweet and genuine, others you found utterly droll but the one person you wanted to dance with eluded you.

Eventually, you managed to sneak away to the veranda to steal a few minutes alone to yourself. You were enjoying the cool night air when you heard a voice behind you.

“I thought I might find you here, princess.”

Smiling, you turned around to face the person you had been longing to see all night. Bucky was clothed in all white with silver trimming, complete with a white wolf mask. You thought he looked rather dashing.

“It was starting to get quite stuffy in there...”

“Indeed,” he said, joining you and placing his hands on the veranda railing, his gloved fingers brushing against yours. “Have you danced with many tonight?”

“Too many to count... none of them have reached my standards.”

“You must have pretty high standards...”

“That I do... in fact, I have already made my choice in who I want to make my consort.”

“Is that so?”

“It is... you may already know him. He’s tall, handsome, has beautiful blue eyes, he’s in the knights...”

“I see... well I wish you and Steve a long and happy life together.” You playfully nudged him.

“I think we both know who I’m referring to...”

“I think I do too... but I’m afraid to let myself hope...” When Bucky heard you were supposed to be choosing the man you were going to marry, it broke his heart.

“Then how about a dance?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

“Do you want to dance with me or not?”

“Yes, your highness,” his voice had a playful lilt to it. He offered his arm to you and escorted you to the ballroom floor as the music began.

As you glided across the floor with Bucky, it felt like you were the only two people in the room amidst the swirling colours and glittering lights. There was no denying it. You were totally and hopelessly in love with each other. When the song ended, your lips moved closer to his but a voice interrupted you.

“May I have this next dance, princess?” You turned to see a stranger fully clad in black with red tentacles embellished on the shirt and a mask in the form of a red skull. There was something about this man that sent chills down your spine, however, it was your duty to dance with every gentleman who asked. You knew almost everyone at this party but you couldn’t place him. He was clearly skilled at the waltz but his grip was tight and hurting you. Bucky watched his every move and stayed close by just in case.

“I have been very anxious to meet you princess...”

It all happened so fast. The stranger pulled a knife concealed in his belt and brought it down towards your heart. Bucky quickly ran over, managing to push you away and put himself between you and the assailant. The knife let out a sickening clink as it got stuck in the panels of Bucky’s arm. All you could do was stand there in shock, the palace guards rushing over to apprehend the attacker. The man tried to get away and in the scuffle, his mask clattered to the ground revealing his identity. It was Johan Schmitt, an enemy to the royal family and leader to a group of rebels. He screamed profanities and antiroyalist speech as he was dragged away to the dungeons to be dealt with later.

“Are you alright, princess? Did he harm you at all?” a nearby servant asked. You shakily showed your bruised wrist and they ushered you to a doctor. You turned back to see Steve helping Bucky remove the knife from his shoulder.

From that point on, the party was well and truly over.

...

The following day, the palace was abuzz with gossip about the events that unfolded at the ball. There was only one thing on your mind. You went to your mother to let her know your decision.

“Mother, I have made my choice... I want Sir James Buchannan Barnes as my consort.”

“Are you sure you don’t have false feelings because he saved your life last night?”

“No, Mother. I have been in love with Sir James since I was a teenager. He has proven himself worthy to be my partner time and time again, not just to me but to the kingdom. He is a knight of high status and by our laws; he is eligible for my hand. Nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”

“This is your final answer?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Then it is decided. I will make the appropriate arrangements. You may go.” You couldn’t stop smiling, having to stop yourself from running through the halls to go tell Bucky the good news.

In the months that followed, you and Bucky were finally married. You finally got the man of your dreams and Bucky got the princess of his.

#ssb2021 #royal au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #Female reader #Princess #Knights #masquarade #queens #costumes #masks #Marvel #Marvel fic #Paper Faces on Parade #Royal Ball #assassination attempt #royal marriage

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echo-bleu · 4 years ago

Text

To Fall, There Is Death

This work was created for the @rnmbb Roswell New Mexico Big Bang 2020 event.

The amazing @slynella/Slynella was my partner for this event and created three absolutely wonderful illustrations for this story! The artworks are incredible and I love them to pieces, thank you so much Sly 💙

Huge thanks also to @eveningspirit for helping me build the plot of this and handholding through the writing. This fic was hard to write, both because I got lost more than once in the narrative and because I basically left the fandom when I was less than halfway done. But, here it is.

This fic is loosely based on both Dumas' The Three Musketeers and BBC Musketeers, and borrows some plot elements (and a few lines) from the latter, but there is no historical accuracy whatsoever and it is set in the fictional kingdom of Antar. The title comes from “Quo ruit et lethum” which is the actual motto of the Musketeers: To Fall, There Is Death. The header of each part is a chess move or a chess opening, usually with some relation to what happens in the part (and a few where I just liked the name :D).

[apparent deaths by shooting and hanging, mentions of war and injuries, canonical levels of violence, past abuse]

Read on AO3 (13k).

The day Alex died was the beginning of the end.

Liz would be hard pressed to tell when it had all started, when the pieces had first been put in motion. So much had happened to lead them there, one step away from checkmate, one step away from the end of the game.

Maybe it had started six months ago, when the King died. She remembered the funeral ceremony that gathered all of the court and so much of the city, Max and Isobel’s regal and solemn faces. Max had worn white, and knelt to receive the crown on his head. “The King is dead,” they’d chanted. “Long live the King!”

But things had been moving even before that. Maybe it had started a year ago, when Lord Michael first came to the court and challenged Alex to a duel. Alex had been injured already, barely able to stand on his feet. Liz remembered the absolute shock on his face, when Michael had pushed back his hood and revealed himself, after the King introduced him as his natural son.

Alex had lost the duel. He’d stood there afterwards, dazed and devastated, unable to take his eyes off Michael for one second, like he’d expected him to disappear again. He’d spent most of the next three weeks drinking himself to the ground every evening, just to dull the pain that never left his eyes.

So maybe the pieces had already found their place ten years ago, in that time Alex only ever hinted at, when he and Michael were engaged to be married. He’d never told Liz and Maria the story. “There was a man, once,” he’d said. “He died.” Kyle had probably known more, after all he was Alex’s friend when they were children, but he never said. In all the years they’d known Alex, though, there were always these shadows in his eyes, that spoke of a dreadful weight, a longing and a guilt that never left him.

Bishop Takes Knight

Now

The Musketeers on duty stood in line for muster, as Alex limped down the ranks and inspected their gear. Musketeers had to be dressed perfectly in every circumstance, boots shiny and blue cape draped over their shoulders, because they could be called to attend the King and the royal family at any moment. Liz was with Maria at the very end of the line, Alex’s seconds-in-command, his most trusted people. Kyle wasn’t there, because a patrol had come back injured from a skirmish with the Red Guard the night before and the surgeon hadn’t slept all night, getting a bullet out of a Musketeer’s shoulder.

Alex handed out orders for the day and dismissed his Musketeers. Liz and Maria joined him in the armory, since they were to be on duty at the Palace that day, and together they selected loaded muskets and their trusted swords.

There was nothing to indicate how horrendous things were about to get, except maybe for the slight trembling in Alex’s hands as he fit his scabbard on his belt, or the way Liz and Maria squeezed his shoulder a little tighter than usual before going to ready their horses.

They barely had time to step out of the garrison, leading their horses out of the large wooden gate, before everything went to hell.

“Musketeers!” a voice rung out, harsh and unforgiving.

Alex froze in his steps, recognizing the figure in red before any of them. There were half a dozen Red Guards scattered around the square, unmoving, watching them, and in the middle, Lord Michael, in full leather armor under his red cape. He had several pistols on his belt, and one held loosely in his hand.

“Manes,” he added with venom in his voice. “Still standing, I see. Still the Captain.”

“Michael,” Alex answered, his voice smaller and shakier than Liz had ever heard it in public. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to finally do what I’ve been waiting for for ten years,” Michael spit out. “I’m here to kill you.”

Liz fully expected Alex to take a fighting stance, bring out his pistol and defend himself, but he sagged instead, looking defeated. What had become of her friend, the war hero who went up the ranks so fast he became the youngest Captain ever? Where had Alex Manes, the fearless soldier, best swordsman in the Kingdom, gone?

She’d seen the change, of course. The last year hadn’t been easy on Alex. Ever since Michael first came to the court, he’d been different. There was a spring in his steps, at first, just knowing that Michael was alive, but with the months passing, with Michael showing his loyalty to Jesse Manes at every turn and his hatred of Alex, it had grown into a weight, a ball and chain he dragged everywhere with him.

Liz hadn’t realized that it had gotten that bad. Alex wasn’t defensive, he was resigned. It was almost like he wanted Michael to kill him. Like he felt that he deserved it.

He gave Maria the reins of his horse, and turned back to Michael, facing him.

“We can still work this out,” he said, his voice low and sad. “There are other ways, Michael. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I believe I do,” Michael snarled, still speaking loudly so that everyone in the square could hear him. “You had me hanged, Alex. On the day we should have been wedded.”

Alex looked stricken. “I didn’t–”

“I was in your bed, for months. I know who you are, deep inside. Definitely not a morally uptight Musketeer. You disgust me.”

“We can settle this like gentlemen,” Alex said, hand going for his sword. “Last time I was injured, but we can duel again. The King isn’t there to stop us from dueling to the death this time. You can have your reparation.”

Michael waved his pistol around. “Damn the rules!”

“Michael!” Liz cried out. This was too much. If Alex wasn’t going to defend himself, then she would. “The King will never forgive you if you do this.”

“The King is my brother,” Michael spit. “He’ll choose me over one Musketeer. Especially one who’s been a thorn in everyone’s side for so long.”

Liz closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that it wasn’t true, that Max truly respected Alex and wouldn’t stand for this, but how well did she really know the King? Just because he liked her, because he always asked her to be his guard and they’d had a few moments together, didn’t mean she knew what he was thinking. This was a matter of politics, the King and the Prime Minister, the Musketeers and the Red Guard. It would never be a simple question of friendships and personal preference.

When she opened her eyes again, Michael had his pistol trained on Alex.

“Michael,” Alex murmured. “Please. I never wanted this. I loved you.” He had tears running down his cheeks.

Michael’s jaw was set, but he twitched at the words.

“You never loved me,” he snarled. “I was just a toy to you, that you discarded at the first occasion. How was it like, Alex, to see me hang at the end of a rope? How did it feel?”

Alex let out a sob. Michael locked eyes with him.

It all happened fast. Michael aimed his pistol just as Alex looked away, devastated. The shot rang out like a death sentence, echoing across the square.

“Alex!” Liz screamed, as her friend collapsed. She ran to Alex’s side, all thoughts of safety be damned. He was lying on his side, unmoving.

“Lord Michael!” someone cried. The Red Guards around the square started moving, rallying around Michael as the Musketeers took out their guns. But there wasn’t going to be an all-out battle, not today, not like this. Michael looked at them disdainfully and turned away, taking his men with him.

“Kyle! Kyle, come here right now!” Maria yelled toward the open gate of the garrison, joining Liz at Alex’s side.

But Jenna Cameron was already moving Alex, checking his pulse. “It's too late,” she said. “He's gone.”

Liz stayed frozen for a second, incapable of believing it. She looked between Alex’s still form and Michael, now retreating from the square without even a look behind him.

“Come back, you coward!” Liz screamed at the top of her lungs. She launched toward him, but Maria caught her across the waist and held her back, sobbing.

Michael’s steps halted for a brief moment, but he didn’t turn. He kept walking away until he disappeared down a side street.

Liz collapsed against Maria, and they both fell to their knees crying, cradling Alex’s lifeless body.

King’s Gambit

A year ago

Liz winced as Alex hit the floor hard, head first, grunting in pain. The whole court cheered, but watching it brought her no joy, no excitement. Alex was the best swordsman in the whole Kingdom, he should have easily won against a fresh-faced arrogant Lord, bastard of the King or not. But the asshole was good, and he’s provoked Alex when he was already injured, just a week out of being stabbed grievously enough that his left arm was of no use. Liz seethed in anger as he sneered at Alex from above.

“Come on, you’ve got to surrender,” she murmured under her breath. She hoped her friend would have the common sense to understand that his health was worth more than winning this ridiculous duel, even if he felt the heavy gaze of his father, the Prime Minister, on him.

Maria, beside her, was holding her breath just as much. She knew how much Alex’s abused body could handle, and this was already too much. They sighed in unison as Alex rose to his feet once again, stumbling on his boot-covered wooden leg before dropping into a fighting stance. Lord Michael goaded him openly, exchanging a few parried blow before he plunged under Alex’s guard and elbowed him hard in the temple. Alex crumpled to the floor.

Liz was almost relieved that Alex didn’t rise again, until she realized that he’d passed out. Maria rushed to his side, taking his pulse, and Liz only started breathing again when she looked up and nodded.

“Goddammit, Alex,” she whispered. Cameron squeezed her shoulder from behind.

They both sighed in relief when Alex made it back to his feet with Maria’s help, and knelt in front of the King.

“You fought well, Captain,” the King said. “But my son is an excellent swordsman, and you are obviously injured. Do you accept your defeat?”

“I do,” Alex answered through gritted teeth.

“Very well. Then I declare Michael, count of Dimaras, the winner of this duel. Michael, will that satisfy your call for justice?”

“It will for now, my King,” Michael answered, kneeling beside Alex. “The rest of my claims will be settled another day.”

Liz stared at him, wondering exactly what he had against Alex. She’d never seen him before, so it was obviously something from Alex’s past, from the time he never spoke about. Alex had that look on his face that she’d only seen on his worst days, the ones where he drowned himself in wine, or trained until he collapsed in exhaustion.

There was a story there, and it wasn’t a happy one.

It took several days for it to come out. Alex spent them in the worst mood, spending his days in the armory despite his injuries, hacking at straw mannequins until he couldn’t feel his arm anymore. His friends didn’t push him. Liz and Maria recounted the duel to Kyle in detail, of course, but they didn’t try to force the story out.

They knew their friend. Words didn’t come easily to Alex even on the best of days, but now between his concussion and his exhaustion, he could barely string together a sentence. He seemed to be in shock.

When he was finally ready, one night at the tavern, after almost a full bottle of wine, the words came out stumbling over themselves. It was disjointed, slurred, barely intelligible, but Liz understood enough. There was a boy, once. Lord Michael, before he was the King’s bastard, when he was just a street orphan. He and Alex had fallen in love and gotten engaged. Alex’s father had disapproved, and made it clear, but they were going to elope.

And one day, Jesse Manes had found them in the gardener’s shed, and he’d glimpsed the fleur de lys branded on Michael’s shoulder, marking him a thief and a convict. Alex hadn’t cared, he’d trusted Michael, but it gave Jesse the opportunity he’d been waiting for to destroy them.

He’d attacked Michael with a hammer, and then, by the authority granted to him as the lord of his lands, he had sentenced him to death. Alex had been powerless. The last thing Michael had seen before the rope suffocated him was Alex’s tears.

Except that somehow, Michael was alive. And he held Alex responsible for what had happened to him. His knight in shining armor, the one Alex had thought would steal him away from his monster of a father, had become the black bishop of Jesse Manes’ game, intent on taking his revenge against Alex.

“Ten years learning how to live in a world without him,” Alex sobbed into his bottle when he finished. “What do I do now?”

Liz didn’t have an answer. She hugged him tight until he fell asleep.

Endgame

Now

On the day of Alex’s funeral, the sun shone high and hot in the sky and it felt like it was the universe’s way of laughing at them. Liz got up early to clean her leathers and polish her boots until they shone brighter than they should have been able to, given how worn they were. She checked her uniform meticulously, taking particular care of the fleur de lys engraved pauldron that marked her commission and the expensive rapier Alex had gifted her years ago. Squaring her shoulders for the hard day ahead, she walked down the ranks of solemn Musketeers, adjusting blue capes and leather doublets as she gave out orders. Alex deserved them at their best, and she was going to make sure that they were.

The service was beautiful and heartbreaking. Commander Valenti gave the eulogy and all the Musketeers stood at attention under the heat as the casket was lowered into the ground. Alex had been a well-respected and beloved Captain, who’d always taken care of his men.

Liz felt a pang when she saw Gregory Manes, freshly returned from the war on their border, shed a tear as he threw a rose on the casket. He was the only one of Alex’s brothers that she liked, the only one who supported him. Jesse Manes stood, impassible, as people came to offer their condolences. He never even twitched a muscle, and Liz hated him for it.

She kept observing him throughout. This was the man who had had his own son killed. They all knew whose orders Michael had acted on, even if he’d pretended to do it out of revenge. Liz, whose own father was an immigrant tavern owner who’d done everything for his daughters, couldn’t understand how a man like Jesse Manes could even exist. He hadn’t hesitated to have Alex murdered because Alex threatened his position as the Prime Minister.

And now he stood there and didn’t even have the decency to show some grief. He was dressed in the black of mourning, but he looked at people with the same disdain, the same arrogance as he always did.

This was a man who thought himself untouchable.

Liz was going to prove that he wasn’t. They were moving toward the last stretch of the game, and even with Alex gone, she would make sure Jesse Manes didn’t win. She patted the stack of letters tucked into her leather doublet. One way or another, Alex would be avenged.

Zwischenzug

Three months ago

“Alex!” Maria exclaimed as Alex joined them at the long mess table in the garrison’s courtyard. Kyle moved to give Alex space to sit down on the bench, while Liz grabbed a bowl of soup for him. “Where were you? We looked for you everywhere!”

“Did Commander Valenti ask after me?” Alex asked, dropping onto the bench.

It wasn’t the first time, in the last few months, that he’d disappeared on them like this. He had done that before, but usually they found him passed out somewhere in a tavern, or occasionally curled up in bed in his room, in too much pain to move. But recently, it had changed. He rarely drank too much anymore, and wherever he went every few days, he came back looking rested and content. It wasn’t common when it came to Alex, so his friends hadn’t pushed him to reveal his whereabouts. That day, though, he seemed on edge.

“No, we just thought we might hit the tavern,” Liz answered. “Dad is making rice pudding tonight.”

“I have something to tell you first,” Alex said, lowering his voice. They all leaned in to listen. “I just came from the Palace. You’ve all heard that Princess Isobel is pregnant?”

They nodded. It was the talk of the month everywhere in the city. Princess Isobel was King Max’s twin sister, and since the death of the old King four months ago, the next in line for the throne. King Max had yet to marry, even though he was already twenty-eight, so Princess Isobel and Prince Noah’s child would be the first Prince or Princess of the new generation.

“You remember how I told you that my father will try to regain more power?”

Liz nodded. “He had the old King’s ear, but Max hates him. He’s been talking about appointing a new Prime Minister.”

“My father won’t stand for it,” Alex said. “He will move against Max soon. He knows Max won’t let him keep his position for long.”

“But what can he do?” Maria asked.

Alex’s eyes turned stormy. “He’s ruthless. He plays the long game, and he’ll stop at nothing to get even a scrap of power. My source says that Prince Noah is his henchman, he’s the one who convinced the old King to arrange this marriage. He wants to get Isobel on the throne.”

Liz widened her eyes in shock. “By killing Max?”

Alex just nodded.

“But Isobel hates him just as much as Max does,” Maria said. “It wouldn’t change anything, would it?”

Alex bit his lip. “It looks like he has some kind of leverage on her. With that and Noah’s influence, he could get her to do what he wants. And–” he hesitated.

“What?” Kyle pressed him.

“Now that Isobel’s pregnant, he could also eliminate her as soon as she gives birth,” Alex sighed. “If he played his cards right, he’d be named Regent.”

Liz swore under her breath. This was bad, worse than she could have imagined. “How do you know all that?” she asked.

“I’m getting...inside information,” Alex answered. “That’s all I can tell you, I can’t put my source’s life at risk. But we have to stop my father.”

“But how?”

Alex ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted. “I don’t know yet. But I will figure it out. In the meantime, we’ll double up all our guard duties for both Max and Isobel. We won’t let them get hurt.”

Castling

A month ago

The convent was easy to defend, its thick outer walls ready to weather a siege, but the inside was cold and sparsely furnished. The weather was just starting to warm up, spring giving way to summer, but Liz shivered as she stared at the lime-washed walls, her linen shirt too thin to keep out the chill.

“I can't believe you slept with the King!” Alex exclaimed, throwing his hands up. He was pacing back and forth in the corridor outside the Mother Superior’s private chambers, which had been ceded to the King for the night. They’d arrived at the remote convent the night before, under fire from a host of unidentified mercenaries, intent on killing the King.

“Alex, not so loud,” Liz whispered back. She wrung her hands together, nervous. “It was special circumstances, okay? He was scared and someone was trying to kill him. He just needed some reassurance.”

“And you had to sleep with him?” Alex lowered his voice. “After what happened to Rosa? Liz, did he force you?”

“No, of course not!” Liz clasped a hand over Alex's mouth, worriedly looking at the door behind which King Max was asleep. “He didn't force me. He didn't even ask me, I offered.”

“I don't understand,” Alex said. “We're here to protect him. We spent the whole day yesterday under heavy fire because someone is after him. And he's the King, Liz!”

“I know.” Liz looked away. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Max had looked so down, so alone, she’d just wanted to offer comfort. The sex had been a spur of the moment thing, and although she was convinced neither of them had really forgotten why it was wrong, they hadn’t cared. Max might be the King, but he was a human being just like any of them, with his own fears and desires, and Liz had felt close to him ever since he started requesting her as his personal guard more often.

“Oh my God, you're in love with him,” Alex realized. “Fuck. That's a development I didn't expect.”

“I'm not in love with him!” Liz protested, but her voice wavered. She could see in Alex’s eyes that he was far from convinced.

She was about to argue more when she saw a nun approach from the corner of her eyes.

“News?” Alex asked.

The nun, a young, fresh-faced woman who seemed nervous and shy under her black veil, pointed toward the convent’s courtyard. “Your friends are back.”

“Good. We'll be with them in a minute,” Alex said. “We'll talk again later,” he added to Liz.

“Alex?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Yes?”

“Can we keep this quiet for now?”

Alex sighed. “Of course. The King sleeping with a commoner, be it a Musketeer, is not something we want to shout from the rooftops, anyway. Is this about Kyle?”

Liz shrugged. She and Kyle had found comfort in each other, back when they first became Musketeers. Liz had never been in love, and she liked Kyle more as her friend than whatever they had been back then, but she knew he still felt something for her that wasn’t just friendship. She didn’t want to hurt him, and knowing that she’d slept with the King, of all people, surely would.

“Fine,” Alex grumbled. “Let's go.”

He had sent Maria and Kyle with most of the Musketeer team that had traveled with them to pursue their assailants yesterday, after they had managed to make them flee. Liz was relieved that there hadn’t been a single casualty on their side, whether Musketeer or civilian. They had done their best to protect both the nuns and the King, but if it had come to it, the King would have had to be Alex’s priority, and Liz knew he would forgive himself for putting nuns in the line of fire, however willing they had been.

Their friends looked tired and dirty, but not injured. “Did you catch them?” Alex asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “We almost got one, but they disappeared. Only thing we found is one of their horses.” He gestured behind him to one of the Musketeers, who lead a horse over.

“Any identifying marks?” Alex asked.

“Only this,” Maria said. She pointed to the embroidery on one of the saddlebags. Five dots, joined by a thread, making a lopsided W, in yellow thread on the dark leather.

Alex took in a shocked breath.

“What is it? Do you recognize it?”

“That's Cassiopeia,” Alex said. “That's Michael's symbol. His men are the ones who attacked us.”

He brought a hand to his throat, cupping the ever-present gold medallion and ring he wore on a chain. Liz had never asked what they were, but since Alex had told them his story, she’d assumed it was his engagement ring, and maybe a portrait of Michael. She’d seen him do this very gesture many times over the past few months, nearly any time Michael’s presence at court came up, but rarely with such anguish on his face.

“This was in the saddlebag,” Maria said, handing over a stack of what looked like letters, tied with a brown cord. Alex took them with a frown. “Nothing else?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

He nodded tightly, and ran a hand over the embroidered constellation. “I should have known my father would send you,” he muttered. “He knows where to place his pieces. What have you done, Michael? What are we going to do?”

Giuco Piano

Ten years ago

They were seventeen, and in love. The sky was full of stars above them, on a warm summer night. Alex and Michael were lying in the grass at the very edge of the Manes estate, behind the gardener’s shed. The gardener, for whom Michael worked during the day, had long retired in his house further up on the hill, and Michael had brought out the blankets he used to sleep on a straw bed in the shed.

Alex spun the thin golden ring on his finger. Michael had given it to him earlier that day, going down on one knee, a plan already formed for them to get married and escape the Manes estate and its bigotry by the end of the summer. He had made the ring himself, during the shifts he picked up at the village smithy. He’d even plated it with gold he’d saved up from the jewelry people asked him to repair.

Michael was good with his hands. He was good with everything, really. He was smart and quick-witted, and he knew the name of every plant in the estate’s garden. He’d taught himself to read and write, and he spent his night poring over thick tomes Alex snuck out of his father’s library for him.

It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t allowed to make use of all of this knowledge, just because he’d been born a commoner. An orphan. He’d told Alex about all he’d had to do just to survive, unable to even get an apprenticeship because he had no parents to sign a contract. The years of labor, from an age too young to remember. The abusive employers, the orphanages, the streets.

The jail he’d ended up in, and escaped from. Alex knew what the mark branded on his shoulder meant. It meant that Michael had been convicted and thrown in prison, at fourteen, for stealing food from the market. It meant that even if Alex’s father had been willing to let him marry a man, and a commoner to boot, it would never, ever be a criminal like Michael.

That was okay, because Alex had no intention of asking him. In a few days, he’d turn eighteen, and they would run away together.

Right now, they could enjoy a summer evening together under the stars, far away from prying eyes.

“This is Ursa Major,” Michael pointed at the sky. “It looks a bit like a frying pan. Then Ursa Minor. The brightest star is called Polaris, it's the brightest of all stars. Then Draco, the dragon, goes around it, see? A curve here, and then back. My favorite, though, is Cassiopeia.”

“Where is it?” Alex asked.

“There,” Michael pointed a little to the left. “It has five major stars. Like a W, see?”

“I think so,” Alex murmured. “Yes, got it.”

He turned to press a kiss on Michael's cheek. “I like listening to you. Keep going.”

“Cassiopeia is the prettiest,” Michael said. “It was named after a queen who thought she was the most beautiful person in the world, more even than the nymphs. She angered a god, Poseidon, and he set a sea monster on her kingdom. She had to sacrifice her daughter to appease him.”

“Ugh,” Alex made a face. “That's not a nice story.”

Michael shrugged. “I like it, I think. The daughter was saved by a hero and married him. Sometimes I wonder what my mom sacrificed me for. Maybe she's safe and happy somewhere out there.”

Alex squeezed his hand. “Yeah. I wonder that too,” he murmured. “My father would happily sacrifice any of his sons for the kingdom. Me especially. He wouldn't even blink.”

Michael sighed. “I wish that weren't true. We'll get out of here as soon as we're married, right? Then he can't touch us anymore.”

“We'll never truly be out of his reach,” Alex said. “He's the highest ranking officer in the kingdom already. He'll be Prime Minister soon.”

“Then we'll just have to go really far away,” Michael whispered.

Alex closed his eyes and let Michael kiss him, wishing that were possible.

Fork

Now

“It’s done,” Michael stated, throwing his pistol on Jesse Manes’ desk. It made a dull thud. Manes looked up and deigned giving Michael his attention. “He’s dead. I’m sure the word will reach your office soon.”

“Any clean-up needed?”

“No. Full daylight, as you specified. Dozens of witnesses can testify that I did it alone. You have nothing to worry about.”

Manes stares at him for a few seconds, then pushed the pistol away from his paperwork and put it aside. “Good,” he said, in clear dismissal.

Michael ignored the implicit order and dropped into a chair, pulling his feet up on the desk. Manes scowled.

“I thought I would feel something more than this...emptiness,” Michael muttered. “I loved him, once.”

“Are you sorry you killed him?” Manes asked him, annoyed.

“Regrets are pointless. Right now, I need help. His Musketeer friends won't let this go unpunished, and even my status will not be enough, not if they can reveal that I'm branded.”

“You're just as weak as Alex after all,” Manes sneered. “I thought you were different.”

“Weak? No. Just practical. I haven't forgotten that you're the one who gave the order to hang me, Minister. I have very few reasons to trust you.”

“You're right, you're not like Alex. Maybe I can still make something of you.”

“You can use me,” Michael offered. “Ortecho and DeLuca want revenge. They want me. Exchange me against the letters.”

“They have leverage. Why would they give it over?”

“It's become personal. Alex was the one who wanted you gone. The other Musketeers care about very little beside their wine and their petty quarrels with the Red Guards. You hand me over, they'll let the letters go.”

“What about you? Why would you even offer that?”

Michael shrugged. “I'll take my chances against them. I came to the city to kill Alex, and I have accomplished my mission. With the old King dead, I doubt Max will keep me in court much longer, and if he learns about my past, he won't take it well. My best bet is to disappear again.”

“So you think you can slip their watch and escape the city?”

“With Alex dead, I'm the best swordsman in the city. I can take two Musketeers.”

Manes shifted in his seat. “Very well. We'll offer the exchange.”

Bad Bishop

A year ago

“Careful,” Alex murmured, wincing in pain. He shifted his position until he was more comfortable on the bed, waiting until the ache in his shoulder subsided a little.

“Sorry,” Michael said sheepishly, untangling himself from Alex’s limbs. Propping himself up on his elbow, he trailed his fingers down Alex’s chest to his navel, tracing every scar.

It had been three days since the duel, since Michael had declared his feud with Alex in front of the court and then tended to his wounds and forgave him in the privacy of his chambers. Alex’s arm was still too sore to use, though he’d discarded the sling, and his concussion was just starting to clear up, so he was off duty for the time being, by Kyle’s order. Michael had found them a room in a small inn outside the city, known to be discreet, where they’d spent the night learning each other’s body all over again.

They’d changed, in ten years. Both of them had become different men, forged by hardships and age, but their love hadn’t altered. It was scarred by the wounds Jesse Manes had inflicted on it, just like their bodies, but it was just as strong.

Alex reached out with his good arm to touch Michael’s throat, which he was seeing bare for the first time. The deep rope burn there had become white with age, but it was impossible to miss without the high-collared uniform to hide it, a stark reminder of what their love had cost Michael.

Michael’s face fell, sadness replacing his prior playful smile. “It wasn’t you, Alex,” he said.

“I know,” Alex murmured. It didn’t make it hurt less. He’d blamed himself for ten years, for letting his father catch them and giving him an excuse to go after Michael, and he wasn’t going to stop now. He’d failed Michael in every way. He’d watched him hang, unable to save him from that fate.

He’d walked away, unable to stand the sight of his lover at the end of a rope, and that had somehow allowed Michael to escape.

“I love you,” Michael said. “What your father did isn’t your fault.”

Alex just sighed and let his hand fall back to the bed. Michael leaned in to kiss him, softly, and continued his exploration of Alex’s body with his left hand, the scarred, gnarled fingers brushing against his skin.

He reached past Alex’s waist and down his naked hip, to where his right leg ended just below the knee. Alex froze. His wooden leg was resting somewhere beside the bed, the stump naked and ugly, swollen from overuse. He hadn’t let Michael touch it yet, or even really look at it.

But Michael didn’t pause, didn’t recoil back in disgust. He kept touching Alex’s skin, his fingers light like a feather despite their obvious stiffness. Alex shivered as he slowly went over the scars, then back up the inside of his thigh.

“That alright?” Michael asked in a whisper, looking back up at him.

Alex nodded mutely.

“What’s this?” Michael asked, cupping the medallion that hung from Alex’s neck..

Alex blushed and hung his head. “Open it,” he murmured.

Michael’s breath hitched when he saw the tiny gold plaque inside the medallion, delicately engraved with the lopsided W of Cassiopeia.

“I had it made after you—” Alex cut himself off and swallowed, the words stuck in his throat. “I could never forget you, but I needed to remember what I was fighting for. It kept me going.”

Michael ran his thumb over the engraving, then around the clumsily made golden ring he’d once given Alex.

“When all this is over, I’ll make you a much better ring,” he said.

Alex smiled tightly. “I like this one. But we can get matching rings for our wedding, after all this is over.”

It felt weird to even dare think about such a future, after the one they’d dreamed of had been ripped away from them. It felt like tempting fate. But Alex wanted to daydream again, to stop living like he’d die tomorrow.

To stop wishing that he’d died ten years ago.

“How’s the plan going?” he asked, shaking those thoughts out of his head.

“I think he’s starting to believe me, after the duel. He knows I’m the one who stabbed you in the shoulder too. I’m still sorry about that, by the way.”

“You don’t need to say it every time we meet,” Alex snorted. “I know. I understand why it was necessary.”

Michael nodded. “We’ll need him to really trust me, though. He needs to think that I hate you enough to be willing to ally with him, and that’s not going to be easy.”

“My father isn’t an easy man to fool,” Alex contemplated. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“I’ve learned,” Michael said.

He hadn’t known, back when they were engaged. Alex remembered trying to teach him the basics, but they hadn’t had time for more. He hoped Michael’s game was solid, because they were going to need it. “My father is a master player. Beating him at his own game will be hard, but he taught me well.” Alex bit his lip. “He’d use his belt every time I lost. Which was every game, until I finally learned.”

Michael made a complicated face, full of anger and sadness but also impatience. “Then you’ll have to guide me,” he said with a playful smile. “I can be your pawn.”

“Nah,” Alex shook his head, smiling along. “You’re no pawn. You’re...a bishop, maybe. White bishop pretending to be black.”

“I like that,” Michael smirked.

“I’ll like it more when we’ve won the game,” Alex replied.

Queen’s Pawn Game

Four months ago

“Where are we going?”

“I think I’ve figured out the next part of our plan,” Michael said, dragging Alex by the hand. Alex checked that no one was likely to see them, but the place was empty for now. Princess Isobel’s private quarters were off-limits to everyone but her personal servants and, apparently, Michael.

“Michael,” he called, before Michael could take him any further. Alex stumbled a little on his wooden leg when Michael stopped brutally. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” Michael relented. “I’ve been looking for something to use against your father for months. I’ve finally found it. Something that can bring him down.”

“What is it?”

“I asked Isobel—”

“What?” Alex interrupted him in shock. “Do you know how dangerous that is? What makes you sure she won’t just throw us in jail for plotting against the Prime Minister?”

“Calm down, Alex,” Michael sighed. “I know what I’m doing. Isobel wants him gone as much as we do.”

Alex just shook his head, still in shock.

“She says she knows how to get proof that he abused my father’s confidence,” Michael said. “Look, at least heart her out. She’s my sister, she’ll never rat me out.”

“What about me?” Alex asked.

“She admires you. And she hates your father. She will help, I promise.”

“Fine,” Alex relented, though his misgivings weren’t alleviated much. He’d avoided telling even Liz, Maria and Kyle about his plan, by fear that it would somehow get back to his father’s ears. And Michael went straight to the Princess? There was no way this was going to end well.

Isobel was waiting for them in her sitting room, regally sitting on a richly-decorated armchair. She was wearing a blue satin dress with a complex embroidery along her corset and a mounting collar, with matching sapphire necklace and earrings. Her hair was pulled up with pins and braided at the top of her head.

“Captain. Michael,” she welcomed them. “Please sit.”

Alex bowed and obeyed. “Your Highness.”

Isobel didn’t beat around the bush. “Michael told me you’re looking for proof of your father’s misdeeds.”

“I’m—” Alex fumbled, looking for a way to answer that wouldn’t risk implicating him or Michael.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you for details,” Isobel brushed it away with a sweep of her hand. “I believe I know where to find what you need. There are letters. He will not have destroyed them, because they serve as his insurance policy.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked. “Your Highness,” he added as an afterthought.

“You can drop the address when we are in private,” Isobel said dismissively. “The letters are between him and respected members of the court. They detail a plot fomented to overthrow the old King, years ago. It failed, because some of the plotters opted out at the last moment, but your father keeps the letters as proof to blackmail them into doing his bidding. And if he ever goes down, they will go down with him.”

“If you know all this, why don’t you expose him?” Alex dared to ask. This was not how he was supposed to speak to a member of the Royal Family, and he knew he was overstepping, but he had to know. “What does he have over you?”

Isobel leveled him a glare, but didn’t call him out on his impropriety. She started huffing, but her gaze grew sad instead. “He has Rosa,” she said quietly. “And that means he has me.”

Rosa. Free-spirited, beautiful Rosa. The best of them all, cast out of the court like a criminal and sent back to her father’s country, forbidden from any contact with them.

“You had her exiled!” Alex lost his temper before he could check himself. Rosa had been his best friend, the fourth of the invincible group he formed with Liz and Maria. She should have become Captain, not Alex. But she’d gotten too close to the Princess, and she’d paid the price for it.

That was why he watched Liz’s infatuation with the new King Max, Isobel’s twin brother, with wariness. He wouldn’t let the same thing happen to another of his Musketeers, to Rosa’s little sister.

“I did not,” Isobel sighed. “Your father did. She found those letters, she was going to expose him. Manes had her cast out and convinced my father the King to marry me off to Noah, who is loyal to him. He’s been dangling our relationship over my head for years.”

Alex couldn’t stop his anger now that it was out. He could only think of the tears on Liz’s face when her sister went missing, the months of thinking she was dead in a ditch somewhere. “And you think you got the short end of that stick? Rosa’s all alone in a country she’s never lived in, stripped of everything she accomplished for herself! For all I know she’s still a prisoner, too!” They’d gotten one letter, after months of silence, hand-delivered by one of Isobel’s maids. It had been upbeat and hopeful, like only Rosa could be when things were desperate, and Alex knew she hadn’t told them the whole truth.

Isobel looked away. “I know that, Captain. That’s exactly why I can’t expose your father. I can’t risk Rosa’s life, and he’s capable of having her killed if I take a single step wrong. That’s why I need you.”

“Why now?” Alex asked. “He’s been Prime Minister for eight years. What’s changed?”

Isobel sighed. “You can’t repeat this to anyone. Not even your friends, not until the official announcement is made.”

Alex silently put his hand over his heart as a promise.

“I’m with child,” Isobel said. “My marriage is...what it is, and I was willing to sacrifice many things for the peace of the kingdom, as long as my father was the King. But Max hates your father, and they’re already battling each other by way of new taxes and border strategies. I fear that it will turn into war soon. I won’t let my child get caught in the middle.”

Alex inclined his head. An expectant mother would do a lot for her child, he knew that. And Michael trusted Isobel. He could work with that. “Where are the letters?” he asked.

“Manes keeps them in his office, in a locked drawer.”

Alex exchanged a look with Michael. His father’s office was deep inside the palace, constantly guarded. Getting there without getting caught would be almost impossible.

He stood up and bowed deeply. “I will do my best, your Highness,” he said. He still had misgivings, but if Isobel was telling the truth – and why would she lie? – this was their chance to win the game. The Queen could do a lot of damage on a chess board.

“Captain,” Isobel called him, prompting him to straighten up. “Michael told me some of what happened to the both of you. Manes will not go unpunished for that.”

“He was within his rights,” Alex said bitterly. He didn’t know what to think about the fact that Michael had told Isobel about them, but he had told his friends, too. He couldn’t blame Michael.

“Maybe, but he hurt my brother. He will get what he deserves.”

Alex nodded, still doubtful. “Thank you, your Highness.”

Hedgehog System

Two years ago

Alex propped himself up with one crutch carefully as he tended to his horse. He groaned in pain when the young mare shifted her head brusquely and he had to side step, his stump brushing on his other calf. It had been just over two months since he’d been amputated, and the wound was slow to heal, his body still reeling from the infection that had almost killed him.

He wasn’t really supposed to be up and about, but most of the Musketeers were out on palace duty and he was bored. He couldn’t focus on paperwork anymore and he was too wound up to sleep, so he’d come to the stables to have something to do.

His mare moved again, and Alex barely avoided tumbling to the floor, his balance shot. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all.

“Alex!” a voice called. “Where are you?”

It was Rosa. Alex dropped his brush and grabbed his second crutch, leaning against the wall of the stall. “I’m here!” he called back, making his slow way back to the courtyard.

“Alex,” Rosa sighed, seeing him. She didn’t scold him for leaving his room, which was Alex’s first clue that something was very wrong. The second was the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“What happened?” he asked, worried. He dragged himself to a bench and sat down, gesturing her closer.

“I have to leave,” Rosa said.

Alex frowned. “Leave? The garrison?”

“The country,” Rosa sighed, drying her face. “I have to run.”

“What do you mean?”

“Isobel and I...we got caught,” she sobbed. “I have no choice.”

Alex closed his eyes briefly, then put a hand on her shoulder. “Rosa, who caught you?” He knew that Rosa has been seeing the Princess in secret for months, since before he and Liz had gone to war. They’d been discreet, but Alex had found a note Isobel had given Rosa by accident once, and she’d confessed everything.

Rosa bit her lip and met his eyes, hesitating. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Isobel is engaged, and I’m just a commoner. If I don’t leave, they’ll have me executed.”

Alex hugged her as she cried, until Liz and Maria returned from the palace. The goodbyes were painful. Rosa was forced to pack light, leaving with only her horse – most of what she had belonged to the garrison, anyway. She could barely stand to tell her father, but he accepted the truth sadly, preparing her as much food as she could carry for the journey.

Liz collapsed as soon as Rosa’s horse passed the garrison gates, weeping in Alex’s arms. Rosa could never come back, now. She’d have to make a whole new life somewhere, in a country at war with their own, and it was hard to tell if they’d ever see her again.

Center Game

Four months ago

Getting their hands on the letters turned out to be easier than they’d hoped. It was once they found them that things started to go awry.

Michael had orchestrated a commotion in the palace, enough to attract the Red Guards that stood outside of Jesse Manes’ office away. Alex knew that his father was attending the King, so he picked the lock and took Michael inside. They’d both been in the office many times, and they knew where Jesse kept his confidential papers and prized possessions. The drawer was locked, but it was the work of minutes to get it opened.

There were multiple stacks of paper inside. One was an entire bundle of blank lettres de cachet signed by the old King that made Alex wince internally. His father having that kind of power didn’t sit well with him. These letters could condemn someone to death without a trial or any kind of proof of a crime – only the whim of whoever held it. It was undoubtedly how Jesse had managed to have Rosa exiled.

The second bundle proved to be the one they were looking for. Alex untied it and started looking over the letters to check that it was all of it while Michael stood guard outside.

“Michael, look at those names,” Alex pointed at the headers of some of the letters.

Michael approached and read over his shoulder. “Valenti, DeLuca… They were involved?”

“It looks like it.” Alex sighed, his excitement dropping. “If these letters implicate them, we can’t use them. I can’t do this to Mimi, or to the Commander and Kyle.”

“It looks like it’s only the old Commander, Kyle’s father, not his mother,” Michael said, leafing through the sheets of paper. “But Mimi DeLuca was definitely involved.”

“So this is all useless?”

Michael didn’t have time to answer, because there was a commotion outside. “Guards! Why did you leave your post?” It was Jesse Manes’ voice.

“Shit,” Alex murmured.

His father was too close to the door, there was no way they would be able to get out in time.

“Hide,” Michael whispered hurriedly.

Alex didn’t have time to grab the letters from where he’d dropped them back into the drawer. He stumbled to the balcony and flattened himself against the window frame, hoping against hope that his father wouldn’t notice. It was a terrible hiding place, but there was nowhere else in the office that would fit him.

“Lord Michael, what is the meaning of this?” he heard his father ask.

“I happened to pass by your office on my way to see what was going on in the north wing,” Michael answered, his voice loud and formal. “I saw that it was unguarded and opened, and when I checked that everything was alright, I was almost ran into by someone fleeing the place. I think they searched your desk. I tried to stop them, but I was too late.”

Alex heard someone ruffling through papers.

“Minister, it was a Musketeer,” Michael added. “I saw the uniform.”

Alex held his breath.

“Alex,” Jesse muttered. “Of course. Him or one of his friends. No point in trying to close down the palace, those damned Musketeers have free reign here.”

“I don’t think he had time to take anything,” Michael said.

Jesse ruffled through papers some more, then sighed. “I have to go attend the King,” he said. “I’ll leave you in charge of tightening the palace security.”

“Yes, Minister,” Michael answered. “I will see to it immediately.”

Alex heard their steps retreat, and then the door closed. He didn’t dare move, in case Jesse had remained in the office for any reason, but he couldn’t hear any noise.

Several minutes later, the door opened again. “Alex?” Michael called quietly.

Alex stepped out back inside, grumbling as his leg protested his standing on it for too long. “He’s gone?”

“Yeah, he’s with the King. I sent the guards away for now and made sure no one would notice. We can’t take the letters now, though, or he’ll know.”

Alex cursed through his teeth. “Why did you have to tell him it was a Musketeer?”

“I needed his attention off of me,” Michael said. “If he thinks it’s you, he won’t search for the person responsible any further. The plan doesn’t work if he doesn’t trust me.”

“What plan? Even if we can steal the letters at a later date, we can’t use them. I can’t do this to Mimi and Maria.”

They discreetly walked out of the office and into another corridor, entering the Princess’s wing. This was the only place in the palace where they could be reasonably certain that they wouldn’t be overheard by someone with ill-intent.

“I think I have an idea,” Michael said. “It won’t be easy, and it might be dangerous. But that’s the way you play chess, right? Take risks?”

Alex shook his head. “My father wouldn’t agree with you. He makes hard decisions, but he doesn’t take risks.”

“And you?”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve learned that playing by his rules doesn’t give me the advantage.”

“Good,” Michael smiled. “So, maybe we can’t use the letters to incriminate him, but there are other ways they could be helpful. Getting my hands on them will take some time, but it should be easy enough. He’s starting to trust me.”

“How is that useful to us?”

“He’s going to make his move against Max soon. We need him to trust me enough to ask me to do his dirty work.”

Alex blinked. “You want him to ask you to kill Max?”

“I’ll start dropping hints,” Michael said. “That I’m frustrated that Max won’t give me more power, unlike the old King, that I’ve done this kind of thing before… With my past, he won’t have trouble believing me, and if he thinks he has leverage over me, he won’t think twice.”

“So you want to what, stage a murder?”

Michael laughed. “No, just convincingly fail at my task. And once he’s asked me that, we’ll have proof that he’s conspiring against the King.”

“He won’t give you the orders in writing,” Alex said. “He’s more cunning than that. It will be your word against his.”

“That’s where the letters come in,” Michael smirked.

Drunken Knight Opening

Two weeks ago

It happened in a matter of seconds. One moment, Alex was stumbling around the town square outside the garrison, drunk and depressed, ready to collapse into bed. The next moment, he had Michael in a choke-hold, and he was holding a dagger to his throat. Michael had shown up out of nowhere, running from a back alley, and Alex honestly couldn't have explained it if he tried, except to say that his body reacted long before his mind caught up.

“Alex,” Michael let out a strangled whisper. He tried to free himself, but Alex was restraining him too strongly.

“I knew you weren't telling the truth,” Alex hissed. “You had ulterior motives. You just can't let things go, can you?”

“Alex, I don't know what you're talking about,” Michael tried.

“Alex!” Maria called from the garrison door. Alex turned to her sharply, almost driving the knife straight into Michael's neck in the process. “What are you doing? He's the King's brother!”

“He's a liar and a thief,” Alex spit out. “And my father's spy.”

“Alex,” Maria tried, her hands up to show she was harmless. “You're drunk. Free him and we can talk.”

Alex’s rage spiked, hard and unforgiving in his chest. Maria was looking at him with something like pity in her eyes, like he was good for nothing more than her contempt, a shadow of her once great capacity for compassion. Maria, who had let herself be seduced by Michael, who still defended him after Alex had told her everything. She’d probably given him information about Alex, ways to reach his weaknesses.

“You!” Alex rounded in on her, not letting go of Michael. “You slept with him! Are you in love with him?”

“You don't understand,” Maria sighed. Liz came up behind her, her face resigned and sad.

“No, I don't,” Alex said.

“I didn't know, Alex. I swear I didn't.”

They circled each other a few times, in slow steps. Alex could see Liz out of the corner of his eye, ready to intervene, Kyle and his medical kit, waiting.

“Will that do?” he murmured in Michael’s ear.

“Lots of people watching us,” Michael whispered back. “I see Red Guards coming. It should convince your father.”

He chose that moment to free himself of the choke-hold. The main gauche nicked his neck, but the amount of blood wasn’t enough for it to be a serious injury.

Alex immediately drew his sword, but he stumbled, too drunk to fight properly. Michael threw him stumbling backward into Liz's arms, a slash of his blade sending fire down his arm. And just like that, the fight was over.

Michael disappeared into the crowd, swallowed into the sea of red uniforms arriving at the scene.

Promotion

Now

“How was my funeral?” Alex asked from his seat by the window, in the shadows, where he’d been watching the garrison’s courtyard slowly fill up.

“Very emotional,” Liz said, carelessly throwing her rapier onto the bed. “Commander Valenti had a lot to say about you. Your father looked very uncomfortable.”

“I'm sorry to have missed it, I wish I'd seen that. Any news from Michael?”

Maria shook her head. “Not since he killed you.”

“You’re never going to let us live this one down, are you?” Alex asked.

Faking his shooting in the middle of the street had been a rehearsed affair, with the help of a blank pistol and creative use of cow blood. Alex’s best friends and Commander Valenti were the only ones who knew. They’d had to bring the Commander in on the whole plan, but though she’d scolded them about taking unnecessary risks, she was overjoyed to get the opportunity to get back at her long-time rival. Jesse Manes had been a thorn in her shoe for too long.

“You and your lover just faked your murder to take down your father,” Maria said. “Things don’t get much more romantic than that.”

“You read too much,” Kyle grumbled.

Liz plopped down on Alex’s bed. “What now?”

“Michael should be talking to my father as we speak,” Alex explains. “He’ll propose to exchange himself for the letters. And since my father will think that getting revenge against Michael is more important to you than blackmailing him, we’ll have the leverage we need.”

“I still think this is a needlessly complicated plan,” Maria crossed her arms on her chest.

Alex shrugged. “But it will work,” he said. “We have a few days to prepare, and I have a mission.” He pointed at Maria. “You’re going to wait for Michael to contact you, and set up the exchange. I’ll give you the details.” He turned to Liz. “Since I need to make myself scarce until then, you and I are going on a trip. We’re going to get Rosa back.”

Liz and Maria looked at each other. “You think it’s safe?” Maria asked.

“I’ll make sure it is,” Alec nodded. “Our job is to get her here. Michael will handle the rest.”

Liz’s face lit up and she got up from the bed to hug Alex. “Thank you,” she murmured in his ear. “Thank you. Dad’s going to be so happy.”

Magnet Sacrifice

Two weeks ago

“So we finally meet properly,” Michael said with a smile, shaking Liz’s hand, then Maria’s. “I feel like it’s long overdue.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding us,” Liz joked.

Alex felt a little like his parallel worlds were colliding, his day life as a Musketeer and his night escapades with Michael. Having Michael here, at the garrison – even if they’d taken precautions and let him in through a back door, and he wouldn’t go past Alex’s office – was both exciting and terrifying. They were playing a dangerous game.

“How did it go?” he asked, cutting the pleasantries short.

“The altercation got back to his ears, as planned,” Michael said. “And he knows you have the letters. He sees you as his main threat, and me as his ally.”

“So you've convinced him that you hate me and that you're on his side?”

“Almost. Just one tiny detail left.” Michael shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

Alex frowned. “And what is that?”

“I need to kill you.”

Alex’s friends erupted in questions and protests, while Alex stared at Michael, considering.

“Eliminate a threat and collar you in the same move,” he said slowly. “That sounds like him.”

Michael nodded. “I think he wants to both be certain that I really hate you, and make sure that he has me under his thumb. If I kill you in broad daylight, in front of witnesses, then he’s the only thing standing between me and jail.”

“He probably likes the dramatic irony of it all, too,” Alex rolled his eyes. It sounded just like his father. He wasn’t a dramatic man for the most part, doing everything with military precision and very little imagination, but when it came to torturing his family, he’d always been inventive. He’d forced Alex to watch Michael be hanged, ten years ago. Alex hated remembering what he’d done to his mother until she left, but it had been ugly.

“So, can we do it? We’d have to make it convincing.”

“Wait, you’re actually going to do it?” Liz protested.

“It’s the only way to get at him,” Michael said. “If I don’t do it, he’ll stop trusting me.”

“Won’t it put a wrench in your plan? You still haven’t told us the whole plan,” Maria accused Alex.

“That’s true,” Alex admitted, raising his hands in the air. “I didn’t want to until we were sure it was going to work. I’ve told you about the letters.” He waved at his desk, where the stack of letters Michael had stolen from Jesse Manes’ office were kept under lock. “My father is very careful not to leave a paper trail. We have the letters, but we can’t use them. Michael can testify that my father had him try to kill Max, but it’s not enough unless we have some kind of confession. So Michael came up with a plan.”

“We both did,” Michael corrected. “You gave me the idea.”

“Let’s say it was a collective effort,” Alex conceded. “My father doesn’t know that we can’t use the letters. Maria’s parentage isn’t public knowledge, and Jim Valenti is dead. He’s desperate to get them back. So we came up with an exchange: the letters, against Michael’s head on a platter. We convinced him that Michael and I hate each other, first with the duel, and more recently when I attacked him.”

“Oh, so that was why,” Maria raised her eyebrows.

Alex nodded. “He’s the King’s brother, so I can’t touch him. My father thinks that I want his hide for how he ‘humiliated’ me. We’ll stage the exchange carefully, in a place where he thinks he has the superior position, and I’ll trick him into a confession. He won’t be able to resist showing me he’s won.”

“That sounds like a really complicated plan,” Maria frowned.

“He’s a master chess player. He’d see through something simpler right away.”

“But then how does it work if Michael ‘kills’ you?” Liz asked.

“It will be even better,” Michael said. “Because he won’t feel threatened anymore. I’ll kill Alex, secure my position. You’ll make the exchange, pretending that you don’t care about the letters and just want revenge. With Alex gone, he’ll think he’s untouchable.”

Zugzwang

Now

“You murderer!” Liz hissed as soon as Michael walked into the church, on Jesse Manes’ heels. Maria put a hand on her wrist to keep her from lunging at Michael.

They had chosen the church for the exchange because it would be empty at this time of the day, and it was neutral ground. Holy ground. Even Jesse Manes wouldn’t dare try something there. He’d come without guards, unwilling to trust any of them with this mission. A few coins had gone to the priest to make sure that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“You shot him in cold blood!” Liz cried out again. She was a good actress, Michael has to give her that.

“He would have done the same to me,” Michael shrugged, lowering his collar to expose his neck, and the scar there. “He did, once.”

“Entertaining as this is, perhaps we should get down to business,” Manes said coldly. “Give me the letters, and you can do what you want with Michael.”

Liz took a step forward, and Maria let her go. She bowed her head.

“Minister, I’m sorry for you loss. I’m sure that discovering that your son was killed by one of your own men was devastating. I was surprised to hear that Lord Michael was still free.”

“He was...useful,” Manes said. “Are you aware of the contents of the letters?”

“Oh, she knows,” Michael said through his teeth.

Liz put her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Shut up, you traitor,” she spit out.

“She knows you tried to depose the old King,” Michael said anyway, putting as much contempt in his tone as he could. It wasn’t hard. He had plenty of contempt in store for Jesse Manes. “She knows you tried to kill the new one, too. But she doesn’t care, as long as her precious Alex is avenged.”

Manes hissed in shock and grabbed Michael by the collar. “You told them?”

Michael shrugged cockily, no trace of fear on his face. “I told them everything.”

“You’d murder the King, just to get your little favorite on the throne?” Liz asked, moving so that she was on Jesse Manes’ other side. “Why? Haven’t you got enough power already?”

“It wasn’t about power,” Jesse sneered.

“Of course it was,” Michael said, pushing him away. “You just wanted your own puppet. Max is too opinionated for you.”

Jesse let him go, his face reddening in anger. “You understand nothing.”

“Then tell us,” Liz said, taking the letters out of her pocket. “Tell us, and you’ll get your precious letters. Nothing will be able to hurt you anymore.”

Jesse glared at her. “The King is destroying our country. He’s emptying our coffers, ending taxes, bleeding us dry. We’re at war, you of all people should know that. We can’t win a war without money. I ordered his death because I alone will face the truths that no one else can stomach.”

Liz paused. “And the old King?”

“A youthful mistake,” Jesse shrugged. “Once we got past our differences, he was amenable to work with me. Just like Noah will be.”

“Well, wasn’t that an enlightening conversation,” a voice boomed out behind their backs.

Jesse turned around in shock as Alex walked in from behind the organ. “Hello, Father.”

“You’re dead,” Jesse hissed, eyes widening almost comically.

“Am I really? It seems that I’m a better player than you give me credit for,” Alex said, putting an arm around Michael’s waist. “You should choose your pieces better.”

En passant

Ten years ago

Alex stopped humming and jumped to his feet as he heard a horse neigh in the distance. His own horse was placid beside the stream, munching on a clump of herbs, but he perked up as well. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then Alex heard a gallop and a frightened horse passed him at high speed, jumping over the little stream without slowing down.

“Come back!” a voice called.

Alex took a few steps away from the cover of the trees and spotted a young man running toward where the horse had gone, limping slightly. His breeches were covered in mud, like he’d fallen off the horse. His outfit was made of cheap linen and rough wool, the only leather a satchel across his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked when the boy reached him. He seemed to be about Alex’s age, with light curly hair framing his face. He was beautiful, in the unrefined way that commoner could be, all muscles from hard work and sun-tanned skin. Below your station, Jesse Manes’ voice echoed in Alex’s ears.

The boy stared at Alex for a moment, giving up on chasing his horse. “He’ll come back eventually,” he sighed. “I’m trying to train him, but he’s stubborn.”

“He’s yours?” Alex asked.

“No, he belongs to the Valenti estate. I’m just helping train him.”

The Valentis were the owners of the land bordering the Manes’ estate. Alex mostly knew their son Kyle, who was his age, though they’d had a falling out and no longer spent time together. Kyle’s parents spent most of the year in the capital, since his father was the Commander of the King’s Musketeers. Alex and Kyle had dreamed of becoming Musketeers themselves as children, though now that Alex was preparing to enlist in the Army next year, that dream seemed far away.

“I’m Alex,” he said, because it seemed only polite to introduce himself. He’d never been allowed to interact much with the inhabitants of the town besides the ones that served his family.

“Lord Manes’ youngest son, I know,” the other boy said, irreverently, his face almost daring Alex to react. “I’m Michael.”

Alex hitched to put him back in his place, but he stopped himself. It was clearly what Michael wanted, so he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Only got here two months ago,” Michael drawled, with a hint of a northern accent. “I’m an orphan. I’ve lived in lots of places. You satisfied?”

Alex shrugged, still not rising to the provocation. “Where do you live now?”

“Here and there,” Michael ducked his head, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “In barns, mostly. I try to pick up work wherever I can.”

Alex bit his lip. Michael’s bravado seemed to stem from not wanting to be put down by rough conditions, and he could admire that. “Can you tend a garden?” he asked.

Michael nodded.

“Our gardener’s old and almost blind, he could use some help. I can’t promise you money, but there’s a shed. It’s sturdy and it keeps warmth pretty well.” Alex knew that mostly because it was where he ran to, when his father was angry enough that staying in the house was dangerous.

“Why?” Michael asked. “What do you want from me?”

Alex shrugged. “Properly pruned rose bushes? People don’t always have an agenda.”

Michael stared at him doubtfully, but he nodded. “I have to go,” he muttered. “Need to find that damn horse before nightfall.”

Alex watched him jump over the stream and take off running and stared after him for a while. He wasn’t sure what to make of this encounter. Mr Sanders would be glad to have some help, especially if it was help he didn’t have to share his paycheck with, but Alex didn’t know what had possessed him to offer the job to a boy he’d just met.

There was something about Michael. Alex couldn’t quite figure out what, but he couldn’t get his face out of his mind, as he hopped onto his horse’s back and led him back to the stables.

He tended to his horse quickly and went to change, knowing that his father was waiting for him in his study for their daily game of chess. It was the only time in the day that they still interacted, as Alex avoided coming down for meals unless they had guests. Since Flint had left the previous year, life at home had been worse than ever, and Alex spent as much time as he could outside or locked in his quarters.

His father scowled at him in displeasure when Alex slid onto the chair waiting for him, and made his first move without a word. He always played the whites. He always won.

Alex dreamed of inverting the board, sometimes. The whites played first, and that gave them an advantage. Maybe with that, he could finally beat his father – finally make him proud.

“You’re hesitating again,” Jesse said, as Alex took a minute second to choose between taking a pawn and protecting his bishop. “You’re still not rigorous enough. There are no easy moves in chess. Whatever you do, there will be difficult consequences, sacrifices that you have to make. You can’t win without making hard decisions.”

Alex didn’t reply, and went with the risky move, that could give him checkmate in five if his father didn’t see it.

Jesse saw it. Of course he did. He played with little creativity, but a ruthlessness that was unmatched, and he had an eye for the combinations. He was always ten moves ahead. Alex couldn’t beat him.

He would beat him one day, he promised himself as Jesse waited for him to topple his king before he stood up and removed his belt. He would beat him, and he wouldn’t do it to make his father proud.

He would win, and his prize would be freedom.

Checkmate

Now

“How very cunning,” Jesse sneered at Alex. “You tricked me into making a full confession. And what use is your confession, uh? The word of a lowly Musketeer against the Prime Minister of Antar?”

“The King may not believe their words, Minister, but he will most certainly believe mine.”

Jesse Manes turned sharply at the new voice. Princess Isobel was as beautiful as ever, illuminated in the mysterious light of the church's stained glass windows. Her light green dress, an intricate work of lace and satin, almost appeared white, and so did her long blond hair, gathered above her head with jeweled pins. She didn’t smile as Jesse bowed to her, deeper than his status warranted. “Your Highness,” he said, backing away.

“General,” Isobel replied coldly, as Liz, Maria and Michael retreated out of the church discreetly, giving her the floor. “The King will hear about this. I am certain he will not have any choice but to dismiss you, and even if your status may spare you from standing trial, you’ll be exiled.”

Jesse backed away a few more steps. “Isobel,” he said, his tone condescending, switching out of formal address. Isobel’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You can’t do that. You know what will happen if you do.”

“I highly doubt that,” Isobel answered. She stepped aside, and Rosa came out of the shadows behind her.

Isobel was incredibly good at this, Alex reflected. She waited until Rosa was at her shoulder and bowed her head to her, in a clear sign of her affection.

“Yes, Father,” Alex said. “I took the liberty to have Rosa escorted back to Antar. It turns out that the King was more than happy to pardon his favorite Musketeer’s sister, once the Princess made her case. And now, I have multiple witnesses who heard you confess to your plot to kill the King himself.”

He was still tense, watching his father's every move with his hand on his sword, but jubilation at this tableau is catching up to him. They had him. Their impossible plan had worked, and his father would never hurt anyone again.

Jesse looked scared now, looking around him for support that wouldn’t come as Alex advanced on him. Alex didn’t bother to hide his limp.

“Your blinders are what defeated you, father. You think I'm weak, because I love men. You thought Isobel was easier to manipulate than Max because she's a woman. You were wrong.”

Instead of stopping in front of his father to face him, he kept walking, until Jesse had to step aside to let him pass. “I believe this is checkmate, father,” he said in a low voice, meant to be heard by him only.

His friends were waiting for him behind the church. Alex led Rosa out, signaling his men to escort his father and the Princess back to the palace. Jesse Manes was done. He might not go to jail, but as soon as Isobel told the King, he would lose his job and his standing, and probably his title and estate.

Alex knees felt weak with relief, as he walked back to the garrison. Commander Valenti was standing with Kyle by the door to her office, and Alex simply nodded at them. It’s done. Kyle whooped in joy while his mother simply smiled.

Alex turned back to his best friends.

“So we’re four again?” Liz asked, watching Rosa with hesitation in her eyes, a fear impossible to put into words.

“I don’t know if I can get my commission back, but I’ll never stop being a Musketeer,” Rosa said with tears in her eyes. She held out a hand to her sister. “One for all,” she murmured.

Liz grabbed her hand, and Alex and Maria joined in, adding their hands on top. “All for one,” they said together. They fell into a group hug, relieved tears mixing with smiles.

Alex saw Michael standing at the gates out of the corner of his eye, leaning against one of the posts and watching them.

“Go to him,” Liz told him quietly. “You’ve waited for this for so long.”

Alex straightened his clothes. “I have something to do first,” he murmured. He unclasped the chain from his neck and took off the golden ring. Taking a deep breath, he slid it onto his finger.

He swallowed back a sob, looking at his hand.

“Does that mean we have a wedding to plan?” Rosa asked with a smirk.

“Soon,” Alex promised.

He didn’t look back as he joined Michael at the gates, and linked their hands together.

“It’s done.” He smiled softly at Michael, who didn’t speak. “We’re free.”

You can read the first two parts of the series for a more detailed account of Alex and Michael's duel and its aftermath (though keep in mind that they were written over a year ago, before season 2, and I've changed a few things to the plot of this AU since, most notably my plans for Maribel). I hope you liked this! And remember to go look at Slynella's amazing illustrations for this fic and give her all the love!

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm bb #roswell nm big bang #mine #echo's fanfiction #musketeers au

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megashadowdragon · 3 years ago

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**1.**Punching Gilgamesh the moment you are summoned/enter a fight/enter a room is not reasonable and should not be done at any time -Gudao

1a. Not even when he barges into the Camelot Room and threatens to everyone, especially when he does it to make your female counterpart marry her -Gudao

1b. Apparently PTSD is not a viable excuse to punch someone when you see him harassing someone. Noted.

2. Just because I am a King, does not mean I can give people nicknames. Makes me wonder how Gareth felt about being called Best Boy by Merlin.

3. Eating contests are apparently not allowed, seems food shortages are common with my counterparts.

4. As it turns out, screaming "To Valhalla" is not the best idea when you step onto Iskandar's Chariot. Especially so when you are right in front of the enemy.

5. Frankenstein is not a doll, do not dress her up. No Arthur, not even if she tilts her head and makes cute growls -Gudao 5a. Okay! Only if its a sundress! -Gudao

6. Getting together four of my other counterparts and forming the Saber Rangers is not allowed, especially if we have Excalizords. Seems the other servants aren't fond of needlessly big robots that take too long to combine.

7. Motorbikes are not to be used at any point or time in Chaldea, no, not even when Iskandar decides to hold the "Chaldea Grand Prix" -Da Vinci

7a. THE SAME GOES FOR OTHER VEHICLES YOU MONGRELS, UNLIKE YOU FUCKS, SOME OF US NEED BEAUTY SLEEP AT 3 AM! -Gilgamesh

8. Just because I can use a sword, doesn't mean I am allowed to attack my Cu Chulainn with it. I swear, he walked into it.

9. Apparently I am not allowed to compliment people? Turns out after I left the beach where I hung out with a sweetie named Kiyohime, along with master, Kiyohime attempted to burn someone alive because I said that master looked like a dashing man. I highly doubt she did.

9a. The smell is still stuck to my trunks Arthur -Gudao

10. My liege... My OTHER liege, please don't ever get Red Saber to sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" again when I am about to utilize Galatine -Gawain

11. We know you are fascinated in other cultures, but please. Stop talking to the Servants of France about Sasaki Kojirou, we don't know if you made up his nickname, but he is not the "Savior of France" - Jeanne D'Arc

12. I would suggest that you stop entering the Camelot Room by screaming "Where is my love! Guinevere!", while it as funny once or twice, I can't stand to see either Lancelots' become depressed anymore -Arturia Altria

13. No offense... But please stop patting my head so much, I know you are basically my Uncle, but people are getting the wrong idea -Mashu

14. While Proto League is an acceptable nickname for the servants of your war, please don't ever enter a fight and scream it out again. We know you enjoy it, but it can get obnoxious after a while - Random Mob 1

15. Proving that I am male by either fighting or pantsing myself is no longer allowed after Heracles decided to do the same thing when a recently summoned Shakespeare made him question his own gender -Da Vinci

15a. Having the entire male team to pants themselves in front of the enemy is not a viable tactic against Archers, no matter what you watched beforehand and despite how fun it is -Robinhood

16. Just because Merlin suggested it, I shouldn't instantly do it. Its odd, almost like no one trusts Merlin, he seems just like my one.

17. "I saw a pest" is not a viable reason to drop a Corrupted Grail into the Babylon Room, we understand your dislike towards the King of Heroes, but Ishtar and Ereshkigal were caught up in the rage.

17a. "I was bored" is not a viable excuse to kiss a female servant while under the effects of Merlin's illusionary spell, Gudao has yet to leave his... specially enduced Coma.

17b. "I saw this scene-" is not a viable reason to go to a prior singularity and ask Muramasa to create a specific weapon, it is time wasting, no matter how strong the weapon is.

18. Suggesting to Rayshift to the point before someone dies is not a good idea, no matter how much fun it is for you to watch the "Crazy Murder Loli" die.

18a. Getting Fou'd is not a good reason to Rayshift back to your fight against Beast VI just so you can "Finish the Fucker Off".

19. Using a voice manipulator made by Merlin is not a good way to get people to be afraid when you shout a noble phantasm.

19a. Shouting "Stella" is not allowed, Arash prematurely shot off his Noble Phantasm while training and now we have to resummon him.

20. Just because we have a Simulation Room, does not mean I can alter the device to allow me to see someone from the past.

20a. We know you miss her, we do too. If you want to speak, you can come talk to us -Proto League

21. Trying to host an "Engry MIYA" talk between Nameless and Alter is not a good idea, just... Don't.

22. While having a Picnic is fun, please don't host them in the middle of a fight.

23. Just because a rabbit killed Gawain in a movie, does not mean you can threaten to cook Fou alive.

24. We know you love kids but come on, you can't just take Nursery Rhyme and Jack out to "Play Fetch" with the Dragons in France every after-noon.

25. Blaming someone that isn't even a servant isn't a viable way to shift blame.

26. I've been banned from the Kitchen, apparently forcing my way in and cooking the meals before Nameless is not a good idea. He looked ready to cry.

26a. Turns out mentioning the fact that Muramasa was far more willing to let me into his kitchen when I visited him was not a good idea. I don't think Nameless likes me much.

26b. "Just because I have the alcohol" is not a good excuse to get a few of the servants including Mashu drunk at dinner.

27. Just because you technically existed before Back to the Future 1 and 2, does not mean you can threaten to sue the creator, even if you can go back in time freely.

28. NO, NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, NOT EVEN IF KIYOHIME ASKS NICELY, WE SHALL NEVER REPEAT THE EVENTS OF YESTERDAY AGAIN.

29. "Look what I found" is a sentence that I am never allowed to speak when I am holding something bigger than my head or smaller than my hands.

30. Turns out that breaking my own arm is not the best way to get Nightingale to calm down. Never thought Merlin would be wrong.

31. "Sure you can touch my Excalibur" is not the best way to differentiate between Arturia's Excalibur and my own when someone asks to hold it.

31a. "But mine is bigger" is not a good response when Arturia talks about how easy her seals are to remove from her Noble Phantasm, nor is it alright to use when talking about when how she made Mordred.

32. Stealing Gilgamesh's potion of youth and putting it in the Soup that EVERYONE ended up eating is the easiest way to have myself barred from missions for a week.

33. Just because people are afraid of it, doesn't mean you should hug it. Not even if Merlin says to.

34. Just because someone stole your food, does not mean you should "Call in a favor" and have Elizabeth sing until someone gives up who stole it

34a. Update: The above applies to Nero as well.

35. Just because I have an innate fear of the Lancer version of my female counterpart, does not mean I can steal her horse and run away because of that fear.

36. Making King Hassan say "Omae wa mou shindeiru" is not allowed, especially if you reply with "I'm already dead" just to mess with him.

37. You are fond of Mordred, we understand. But please stop teasing her. Calling her cute will be her death - KotR

38. We understand that being locked in a single room with Nobunaga can be hard, but saying it was like prison is not fair.

38a. Quoting an abridged anime is not allowed, especially if it has "Sluts" and "Prison" in the same sentence, we still don't know where you got that swim team outfit.

38b. Making a mini Excalibur and saying "Blade of Promised Prison Riots! SHANKCALIBUR" is not allowed at all, Edmond almost had a heart attack.

38c. It is noted that the Arthur and Nobunaga were almost forced to kiss, but utilizing time manipulation to see Romani's death and threaten him with "Spoilers" is not allowed.

39. Just because Merlin asked, does not mean you should dress up as a "Cutesy Idol" and perform a song with a voice changer on in front of a camera for his "Magi*Mari" stream, Romani has yet to heal from that wound.

40. Looking Mordred in the eye and saying "Mordred, I am your father" is not allowed, especially when you have her surrounded by all the versions of her "Father", even the ones that just look like "Him".

41. "I solomly swear I am up to no good" is not what you say while standing behind the Director in the Lost Room, she died once already, we don't need her worrying about what you will do.

41a. "Remember that time you became a Loli" is not to be said around Olga Marie after what happened after she was... Killed.

42. Quoting Kamina from Gurren Lagann is banned, especially after everyone believed you were actually erased from the throne. Only to find you a month later taking off an invisibilty cloak and sneaking into the mens bathrooms to shave.

43. Anime is fun to watch, but please. Stop trying to explain why a certain character would be within the Throne of Heroes.

43a. Stop. Asking. When. I. Will. Summon. ISSEI HYOUDOU! -Gudao

43b. BOOSTED GEAR SCALE MAIL! -Arthur

43c. BOOSTO? -Siegfried

44. Valentines is a wonderful thing, we get it. But making everyone in Chaldea chocolate by going around and hunting in various areas is not needed, we have too much already.

45. Stop Rickrolling, that was so early 2000s, get with the golden times old man -Kintoki

45a. EX-

46. Commenting on the impractical armors of the female knights that walk around is not needed, we have gotten complaints about how they feel harassed -Staff Member

46a. I just wanted to help out... -Arthur

47. I am not to sing anything ever again, the reason isn't because I am bad, no. Everyone agrees I am quite good. But its the genre I sing coupled with my Charisma rank. Seems love songs should not be sung. How sad.

48. Just because I have cat ears, does not mean you should give me Catnip - Atalanta

48a. The same was repeated for Alter.

48b. Along with Tamamo Berserker.

49. "Merlin told me to do it" is no longer an excuse that is accepted, even if he did make you do it.

50. LITERALLY ALL THE THINGS ON THIS LIST ARE BECAUSE OF MERLIN, STOP LISTENING TO HIM.

51. I'm only responsible for a quarter of these, stop blaming me for your troubles, Normies -Merlin

Kiyohime asks Arthur what to do to catch Gudao's attention. Arthur tells her to turn into his most cherished person. She turns into Gudako and tries to force Gudao into sex.

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo fanwork #fate/grand order #arthur pendragon #fate arthur pendragon #proto arthur #prototype arthur pendragon #fate prototype #f/go

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likeholymary · 4 years ago

Text

— one with the force

the phantom menace i: 1.8k words

AU: What if the Clone Wars never happened, but instead Darth Sidious cast aside the Rule of Two, forging a new way for the Sith and began amassing an army of Sith warriors to overthrow the Jedi and the Republic?

A/N: hello friends! so, i actually posted part one for this series a few days ago, but ultimately decided it wasn’t how i wanted to start this series. i also just don’t want to have to write for the entirety of the phantom menace, lol. however, Rhea’s story will still be the same, a young padawan just abandoned by her master, Dooku, who has left the Jedi Order to chase his families fortune. she still grew up with Obi-Wan, and hopefully we will delve some more into their past together as younglings soon:) this chapter will take place towards the end of the phantom menace, so we will be quickly be on chapters with bearded Obi-Wan!! please comment any thoughts or ideas you would like me to incorporate into the story! reblog if you’d like, and comment below if you want to be added to the tag list i will be starting very soon! again, thank you all for reading!

warnings: angst. mentions of abandonment.

She had once had such future, such promise, and now, she felt as though she were nothing. Being abandoned as a padawan was not something many Jedi experienced often, if at all, and yet here she was, the third padawan of her master, abandoned, alone.

Master Dooku had left so quickly that twenty-one year old Rhea did not have much time to process what the cause could be. She supposed she should call him Count Dooku now. Her nose wrinkled at the thought. What was once a great Jedi Master, was now a man who had wealth beyond measure and power that was rarely attainable.

Had it been her fault? What had she done to have failed him, to cause him to leave the Jedi Order he so dearly loved? She asked the question so many times, but she knew it was better to not reflect on the situation so selfishly.

Surely, it could not be entirely her fault. She recalled how he seemed to wane in the Force, his light turning into a flickering speck over the course of the past few years she had known him. What power he had as a Jedi that once blazed soon became disillusioned, something she could feel each time they spared or sat on the brig of their ship while on mission. He had retreated, growing into something she no longer knew, and when he left it should not have come to such a shock.

But she could not forget the fatherly affection he had for her, the kind eyes he would spare her in the library while she studied tirelessly over the Jedi prophecies and scripts of old.

She could not forget his encouragement, nor his sarcastic tone, nor the way he would lift her up and direct her in the ways of the Force so brilliantly so much so that she felt like some chosen creature, blessed to be taught by such a master.

She could not forget the attachment she held to him, and how it was slowly severed as he began to drift away from the Jedi.

And now, it had ended. Now she knew why the Jedi did not allow attachments.

Rhea Illyria tried to catch her breath but the brilliant purple lightsaber of Master Windu came rushing towards her head, and she quickly had to block it from severing it off from her shoulders.

“Concentrate, Illyria! Your heart betrays you. Let go of your attachments. Focus on the present or fail.”

With her lightsaber still above her and blocking Windu, she closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. Focus on the present or fail. Let go.

Releasing the breath through her mouth, she pushed forward with her saber against Master Windu’s, watching as he stumbled back a few steps before raising her blue lightsaber once more to clash with his.

Master Mace Windu was to train her for the foreseeable future until she was to have her trials. Despite her feelings of confusion, she actually hoped that this could mean her trials would come sooner, that she was one step closer to becoming a Jedi Knight. After all, she had been practically born in the Jedi temple, having no home of her own, having only been a babe who was dropped off on the steps of the temple on a summers day in the pouring rain. The Jedi were the only family she had ever known.

As the new master and apprentice continued to spar, Mace’s comm link beeped, signaling a meeting with the council.

“Jinn and Kenobi must have returned from Naboo. Our lesson is done for the day, my young apprentice.”

Rhea bowed her head respectfully, but also to hide the growing smile on her face. She was glad to see Master Windu jog out of the training area, as he grin began to stretch at the thought of seeing her old friend Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She and Obi-Wan had been in the same youngling clan together. The spent time together, side-by-side training in the art of the lightsaber, meditating on the mysteries of the force, sneaking off to steal baked goods from the pantries, and had lived life together as the best of friends. However, this did not mean that the two were entirely the same, and in fact they often got in trouble for causing trouble, often bickering with one another or just creating some sort of ruckus.

This quickly changed when they became padawans.

Although in his youth a willful-rebel, Obi-Wan quickly became disciplined, determined to follow the rules and make his master proud. Rhea, already a force of nature and dutiful, was placed with Master Dooku, who guided her more deeply in the knowledge of the Force.

Rhea was elated, and could not wait to see the boy from Stewjon, who she could not recall the last time she had seen, but the presence of who she could always feel.

She slowly began to make her way towards the Council’s chambers, crossing through the temple gardens and through a case of stairs, hoping to make it just as the meeting concluded. Rhea made her way through the hall, before nestling herself between one of the pillars close to the doors.

Rhea could feel him in the Council room, the anxiety rolling off of him at his masters words. Something about a boy... Whatever it was, she could feel him growing more tense and frustrated as the situation progressed. It only lessened for a moment, and it was almost as if she could feel him breathing beside her.

It was then that the Council doors swung open and Qui Gon Jinn exited with his padawan trailing behind him. They talked in hushed voices outside the doors, slowly walking in her direction. Moving from behind the pillar, she nodded at Master Jinn as she came into their view.

“Master Qui Gon, I am glad to see you returned safely from your mission.”

“Young Rhea, it is good to see your face once again. I am sorry to hear about our Master,” He commented lightly.

“Yes, it was quite unexpected but I suppose it was the will of the Force.” She paused, taking a silent breath before asking, “Could I perhaps speak with Obi-Wan?”

Qui Gon was not surprised in the slightest. He remembered on the night of his padawan’s Initiate Trials how closely he was to a small girl with brown pigtails and olive toned skin. He remembered how fierce the girl was, how she never once faltered in the ways of the Force. And how she surpassed him as their Master’s apprentice, something which shocked him, considering how he assumed Dooku would never take on another padawan. But he seemed to have a special interest in this youngling girl, whereas Qui Gon soon began to feel weighed down by the ways of his padawan. Obi-Wan was his complete opposite in every way, and did not have the same relation his former master and he had.

“Go on, young ones. Obi-Wan, I will see you later this evening at the Council meeting.”

“Yes, master.”

Rhea and Obi-Wan began to walk side by side down the hall, as Qui Gon went the other way. Taking a look behind their shoulders and seeing that his master was gone, Obi-Wan turned to Rhea and engulfed her in such a warm embrace. The girl sighed, taking in the scent of his freshly washed robes as well as the warmth emitting from him.

“I missed you so much.”

Obi-Wan pulled back slightly, giving her his signature cheeky grin. “Oh really? Are you sure? Because I quite remember you saying you couldn’t wait for me to leave on my next assignment the last time we saw one another.”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, and began to walk away, but he simply began to follow in step, slinging an arm around her shoulder like old friends do.

“It’s not my fault you can be so aggravating. Especially when you’re being competitive.”

“Hey, I totally won that sparring match!”

“You cheated! We agreed not to use the Force, simply testing our abilities with a saber.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I would have beat you either way.”

“And why do I highly doubt that?” Her eyes looked up to meet his, an eyebrow raised in a cocky attitude, but she couldn’t help the smile that creeped upon her face. A friendly silence sat between them.

“Care to take a stroll in the gardens, old man?”

“Only with you, dearest.”

Rhea let out an airy chuckle at that. It was the nickname he had so kindly doted upon her as younglings, he at the tender age of twelve and she at the age of eight. The two were bickering about something, who knows what now. However, in the heat of the argument he groaned in frustration when she compared them to sounding like some old married couple.

“Well, fine then, dearest. Why don’t we end this nonsense and retire for the evening?” It had only been three in the afternoon, causing the two to burst into a fit of laughter which ended their nonsensical debate.

The garden looked exceptional that warm afternoon, the sun shining above, casting rays of light that in turn cast shadows from the leaves through the branches. Rhea took in the meadowy scents from the flowers all around them, smiling at the willow tree that they would always sit beneath, either talking or laughing, sharing tears or a stolen pastry. It was peaceful. It was home.

“Why did Master Dooku leave?”

Obi-Wan was never the type to sly away from the obvious. He could feel Rhea’s fear, her confusion. It was a ripple in the Force, growing as each day passed and something he no longer could ignore. It was always so strange how easily he could feel her emotions from parsecs away, but in an even more mysterious way, he felt comforted knowing how his dearest was doing.

Rhea shook her head, turning away from him to stare at the starflowers nearby. “I-I don’t know. I’m so unsure of what reason he could possibly have to leave the Order. It was his life. He was one of the most brilliant Jedi I ever knew, and he abandoned it. He abandoned—”

“He abandoned you.”

She only nodded in response.

“Rhea, look at me.”

When she did not turn, he gently grabbed her chin and turned her face to look in his cerulean eyes. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t fail. If anything, I believe Dooku failed the Order and himself. But most importantly he failed you. He left you at the height of your training. You are no less worthy of becoming a Jedi because of his failures and weaknesses.”

And she fell right into his arms, silent tears pouring down her face. “Thank you, Ben.”

Although she couldn’t see it, Obi-Wan was glad his face was tucked into her dark hair, so she could not see the blush that boomed across his cheeks at the mention of her coined nickname for him. Instead of being like hers, his was only used between them in moments like this, moments of honesty, kindness, friendship.

But to Obi-Wan, it always felt like something more.

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lucisfavoritedemon · 4 years ago

Text

Always & Forever: Part 7

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Summary: Being forced into an arranged marriage by your father doesn't go quite to plan when your soon to be husband tries to take the only freedom you have ever known. Little does he know someone else was listening in. Go on a journey to discover that Lucifer may not be as bad as he appears. He did save your life after all.

Warnings: talks of acts of violence, talks of possession, age gap, cursing, fluff, some angst, mentions of blood and injury, talk of mature topics, 18+ only.

Word Count: 2,301

A/N: I try to stay as true to the time period as I am comfortable with. This an 18+ only series. You have been warned. There is a lot of talk about mature topics. You have been warned. All thoughts in italics.

Enjoy!

I stood there shaking horribly, waiting for the sting of a sword and then nothing, but it never came. I opened my eyes and looked at Lucifer, his face was written with fear, and sadness. He slowly started to walk towards us. I hide further behind Sam not knowing what could happen.

“I-I’m not going to hurt you princess...I-I didn’t mean what I said...it was just so he would stop torturing me with hope that you would come back to me.”

I stayed where I was, still scared of the thought he was going to hurt me.

“Could you move away from her please? I want her to know I’m not a threat.” Lucifer looks to Sam, and he moves no hesitation.

“Y/N, please look at me. I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. I would never actually kill Maddox, or your father, or anyone from Lucaea kingdom.”

“Wh-why didn’t you come back? You were given multiple chances...I called your name in my sleep. I wanted you by my side, to feel your arms around me, but...you never came. You’d rather be fighting our army than be by my side.” I was fighting tears because all I ever wanted was the man I loved to hold me in his arms.

“I-I wanted to...but I couldn’t.”

“I’m your wife! And you couldn’t do your job and be by my side, when you knew I wanted you there.”

“I know I failed, okay?! Quit reminding me!”

I jump at him raising his voice. I didn’t know what to do. I could leave and go back home, pretend like I never came here, and move on with my life, or I could stay and hope that Lucifer really will stay this time. I knew it was wishful thinking that he would stick around this time, but I wanted to hope so badly that he would.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t keep being reminded that I failed you. I don’t want to fail you. Not again.”

“You clearly hate being reminded about stuff. Hope, failure. You know what you’re doing right now, giving me false hope that you’ll ever stick around. I want to hope so badly you will, but the more you open your mouth, the less hopeful I become.”

He looked down, and I knew that this was probably the end. We had to go our separate ways. I should have listened to Dean when he said it wasn’t a good idea.

“I guess that’s it then…” I say my voice cracking from the tears I was holding back.

I squeeze through the guards and slowly walk away. I walk to my father and his men and mount a horse, “let’s go home.” I told my father.

He nods and gestures to his men to move out. I feel a single tear roll down my cheek. This was it. Lucifer wasn’t coming back into my life, but maybe it was for the best. He would just keep leaving every time he failed, even though failure is a natural thing to happen.

“Your highness, is everything alright?” Maddox said trotting his horse next to mine.

“It’s over, I failed my kingdom. I should have just stayed at the castle. I should have known better than to leave and chase after some fantasy of mine. I should have listened to Dean and Sam about this. That it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t talk like that. You did your best, and that was the closest we have ever gotten to peace this far. The Oslucatish princes are just stubborn men who don’t know what’s best for them and their kingdom. You did the right thing coming here. I wish, for your sake, that things turned out different. I know you love him. Truth is when you were ill you..”

“Kept calling for him. I know. I found your letters to him.”

“My-my letters? H-he kept them?”

“Yeah, he had every single letter you wrote. He even got back the letter he sent you.”

“He never sent me a letter. I never got a response from any of my letters.”

“H-he never responded? B-but he had a letter…” I think about what Lucifer said, what if he was telling the truth that he didn’t mean what he said? Maybe he wrote the letter in anger, and never sent it. Oh no, what have I done. “Maddox, I messed up. Really, really bad.” I stop my horse and turn it straight around and run back to the village.

“Your majesty wait!” Maddox yells.

I kept running though, I needed to fix this. Maybe there could be peace between our kingdoms after all. Had Luc just told me he never sent it, this could have been avoided. I get to the gate when I’m stopped by one of the village people.

“Miss, if you have come looking for the army they have returned home. Prince Michael showed up and the second prince is being tried for treason.”

“N-no…”

I sent my horse into a gallop and headed to the kingdom of Oslucatish. I had to stop this. I couldn’t let Lucifer give up like this. He hasn’t failed me. I failed him. I will ultimately fail if I cannot stop Michael from killing him.

“Halt! You are not permitted to enter this kingdom without strict orders or an invitation.” A guard spoke up, stopping me.

“How’s this for an invitation?” I mumble, rearing my horse and running right past them.

I heard them call to stop me, but I was on a mission. To stop this war and get Lucifer back.

3rd Person POV:

Inside the castle the king waited for his eldest son for an explanation as to why his brother was on the execution line.

“Father, as you know we are at war with Lucaea, but I have a strong feeling that he is the reason they have the upper hand in this war. He is still in kahoots with King Nova himself. I believe I saw some Royal Lucaea Knights leaving the village near the Southern Mountain. I knew he was probably leaking intell on our latest attack.”

“Alright son. You plead your case. Lucifer!” Guards brought his second son, who was battered and bruised, over in chains, “did you or did you not tell those knights of our next attack.”

“No sir. I was actually meeting someone else from Lucaea.”

“Ah ha! I told you father…”

“Let him finish son.”

“I was meeting with Princess Y/N herself. She requested to meet in secret so no one knew what she was planning. I figured that neutral territory would be the best place, and it was halfway for the both of us.”

“What did she tell you, Lucifer.”

“I cannot say. I made a promise, on our love, that I would never tell another soul. Especially not with Michael in the room.”

“Would you tell me if your brother wasn’t in the room?”

“No father, I would not. You would just use it against Lucaea and destroy their kingdom. I don’t trust any of you.”

“See father? I should have just ended the bitch when I had the chance. Too bad that little mage found the antidote to my rare poison.”

“I-it was you Michael? You poisoned the princess?”

“She refused to marry me. Father gave me the plant all I had to do was put a single drop in her glass. Of course, you had already arrested me, so I let Gabe do the dirty work for me.”

“F-father? Is this true? You wanted to kill my wife?”

“She was promised to Michael after all. It was not your decision to choose that you would be the next one in line to marry her.”

“I’m the next oldest. You wouldn’t give her to Gabe, would you?”

“If that’s what I decided I wanted to do, then Gabe would marry her.”

“Fine, you want to know what Y/N and I talked about? Talked about complete destruction of Oslucatish.”

Lucifer then breaks free of his chain and pulls out his sword. Ready to fight anyone who dared to come near him.

“You are a traitor Lucifer! You are not fit to be king! Nor my heir! Guard! Seize him!”

Lucifer then starts to fight off every guard, but all he can think about is how heartbroken the princess was. He was fighting for something he knew would never come back to him. She was gone, and wanted nothing to do with him. He had turned into someone he didn’t even recognize, and it chased her away. He couldn’t look in the mirror the same way again knowing he is the reason the love of his life was now gone.

One of Michael’s knights catches Lucifer off guard and tackles him binding him in chains.

“I order the execution of the Second Prince of Oslcatish to be held at dawn! Take him away!”

The door suddenly burst open and there stood a beautiful girl. She had everyone looking at her, all but one person.

“I have some arrangements to discuss with you, your Majesty.”

Reader POV:

“I have a few arrangements to discuss with you, your Majesty.” I bow clumsily showing I have no respect for him whatsoever.

“How dare you come into my palace and demand to discuss with me!”

“I can do what I want King Chuck. I am Princess Y/N of Lucaea. And I believe you are the reason there is war between our kingdoms. So tell me why I should respect you when you're the reason my people are starving."

The king looked at me intrigued, “so you are the girl that has my boys going crazy. It's no wonder though, you're very beautiful. Sorry about the poison by the way, but no one gets away with breaking my son's heart.”

"It was you? I'll have you know that your son tried to kill me at our very first meeting. You tell me then why I chose the second prince.”

“You chose Lucifer?”

“Father, he interfered!” Michael yelled. Typical spoiled brat throwing a tantrum.

“Yes, I chose Lucifer. He saved my life. I owed him that much. I would give everything to have him by my side for all eternity. As my friend, as my king, as my love.”

“I see. Would you die for him if it meant he lived?”

“Y/N! Don't listen to him!” Lucifer yelled, but got smacked down with the hilt of a sword.

“I would, yes. But you cannot kill the king of Lucama on neutral ground.”

“Ha! He is no king!”

I pulled out the document stating that King Nova III has stepped down, and that Lucifer and I have been crowned king and queen of Lucaea.

“Release him. Mark my words girl. This isn't over. Michael, retreat your army. We surrender.”

“Father, wait! We can't let them win like this.”

“Enough! Now do as I say or you will no longer be my heir.”

“Yes sir.”

The guards slowly release Lucifer who is laying on the ground bleeding. I rush to his side and play with his hair. We'll be home soon, love, I promise.

~*~

It had been a few days since the incident at Oslucatish, and had not left Lucifer’s side. I was getting worried since he hadn’t woken up, but I still stayed by his side. I sat there playing with his hair, being careful of the wounds on his face.

“How’s he doing?” Maddox asked, walking in and sitting next to me.

“He’s okay I guess. Still hasn’t shown any signs of waking up.”

“It’ll be okay. He’ll wake up soon. I promise.”

“I hope so.” I keep playing with Lucifer’s hair trying to keep myself calm.

As I keep playing with his hair, I feel him start to lean into it. I smile, brushing the hair off his forehead very gently. His eyes slowly open.

“Hey Luc. How are you feeling?”

“Been better.” He smiles looking over at me.

I smile more, so happy that he is okay.

“I leave you two alone then.” Maddox says and walks out.

“How did we get back? I was sure my father would have captured you and forced you to marry Michael.”

“Maddox came to help me get you back. The guards helped me get you out of the palace.”

“What did you do? Please don’t tell me you’re going back?”

I give a light chuckle, “no, Luc. I’m here to stay. I just hope you’ll do the same.”

“Of course. I promise. Am I dreaming?”

I giggle, “Lucifer, you are not dreaming,” I pull something out of the draw of the bedside table, “I found this in the satchel of my horse. Maddox slipped it in before we left the village.” I hand it to him.

“A coronation decree?”

“Father decided that it was time you and I took over the throne. Now that I have found you again, he thinks that we should be crowned.”

“Is this what you used against my father?”

“Yes. I said it would mean a never ending war for Oslucatish if a king was slain on neutral ground. Then, I showed him that.” I pointed to the pieces of parchment.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved you?”

“You’ve only said you loved me once.” I giggle.

“Well, I do love you very much.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me till the day we die.”

He chuckles, and it makes me giggle.

I was happy he was back in my life. Even though I didn’t even know he wasn’t a consistent thing in my life a few days ago, but now that I had him back, I never wanted to let him go again.

#spn lucifer #lucifer x reader #medieval au #Sam Winchester #dean winchester

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ktheist · 5 years ago

Text

twenty-six

chapters: 25 / 26 / 27

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

Silver armor encases Taehyung’s body almost as though he was made for it - for war and the blood that is bound to spill when he puts it on.

You would know, you’ve been on the receiving end of the battlefield.

Yet you ask for the same suffering of Goldwald’s people.

Something in the bottom of your belly churns with unrest as your mouth sews itself shut. You’ve been a silent watcher as Taehyung draft out the map of the rich merchant-filled land, marking red dots upon the blueprint of where the soldiers will lay in hiding. Whether they attack or not is solely up to the young King of Goldwald - if he agrees to become part of the Southern Kingdom’s territory, then there was no need to make use of the soldiers. If he so chooses to go to war, then he is bound to lose.

This is the first time Taehyung rides for war ever since you got married - some had expected him to seize what’s left of the lone countries at first light the day after he takes the throne. As what was expected from his tyrannic reputation.

Some, as your sister had belatedly relayed before she left after the ball, had thought the Queen - you - had finally put the savage beast to sleep.

You didn’t know the degrees of truth that holds, but you do know it was you who poured the promise of blood over the beast’s lust.

A peck lands on your forehead, just inches from the jeweled crown that sits atop your prettily made hair. Yerin’s hairstyling skill is like no other - you’ve summoned her back to the palace and she’d obeyed every one of your command without so much as a complaint. It is unclear whether it was a good thing or bad.

“You’ll get wrinkles before you turn 30 with a frown like that,” Taehyung jests, a smile making its way to his handsome features - he does that a lot now, smiling that is, “fret not, I’ve given orders to the men to strike down Goldwald’s army only and spare the weak.”

And he’s become more considerate - for you. Because he notices the troubled lines that appears on your face as the men hustled around the palace with polished sword and shields for preparation of war.

At times you find yourself melting from how warm he felt but most times you step back like what you’re doing now, as though reinforcing the invisible line between you two.

The slightest flash of hurt in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you yet you school a stern expression - the way you usually would in his unwanted presence. Though you aren’t so sure why, even though he’s leaving you alone for at least three months, there’s a heavy weight in pulling on your heartstrings.

“Thank you, my King.” You lower your head, “you are most considerate. Goldwald’s people are fortunate to be blessed with your kindness.”

When you raise your gaze, his is becoming shrouded with looming clouds. If there weren’t as many footmen and maids lined up from the palace’s doors down to the gate, you’re sure - he would have burst out. Begged you for your reason for being so distant when all he is, is granting your wish.

The young prince you married would have done so regardless of whether there were watching eyes - perhaps it’s true, the beast lying within the King has its claws clipped. He’s beginning to show much more refinement - a telltale of a wise ruler.

Surprise paints your face when he lowers his face to your stomach, a gloved hand caressing the side of your belly - between the ball and the preparation for Goldwald’s seize, you’ve found yourself due any day now.

“I won’t be here when you come into this world,” he murmurs low enough for only you and him to hear, “but I’ll come back as soon as I’ve conquered Goldwald. Don’t make mommy go through so much pain, yes?”

Guilt’s rears its ugly head at his tender voice and the jarring truth to the baby in your belly’s identity. You don’t regret having your child - but as days pass and as Taehyung’s tone begin to sound like a soft lullaby, the fact that you’re lying right to his face doesn’t sit as right with you. Not the way it used to.

He fixes you a smile - one that is so conflicted but at the same time longs to hold you. Yet he does nothing but bow before turning his back on you as he walks towards his horse, the men already in formation.

“Taehyung,” you find yourself calling his name, making him halt, one foot on the stirrup while he cranes his neck towards you.

Before you know it, the clicking of your heels echo into the air. His lifted brows are the last thing you see before your lips press against his. Surprise is still present on his face when you pull away - you couldn’t bring yourself to send him off with a smile. Perhaps it’s the gnawing feeling festering inside the lightless part of your heart, knowing Jungkook is somewhere in one of the towers, on the look out for enemies - possibly witnessing you run towards the man you swore to loathe. Perhaps it’s the brood of war that you’re sending Taehyung off too. But you mean it when you say-

“Come back to me safely.”

“My Queen, you shouldn’t be out of bed!” Eunha laments, deep creases of frustration marking the spot between her eyebrows.

Unbeknownst to you, before Taehyung’s departure, he had gathered all the servants and gave orders to be on the look out for their Queen in case she overworks herself - said orders to be effective immediately after he passed through the palace’s gates.

Not even a day later, the servants greet you with wary bows and gazes. As though the baby was going to pop out of you right that instant.

Eunha, having been with you for almost a year, had been more vocal than the first time you met her - but you supposed it was her own way of caring for her Queen. Even though some may deem it discourteous to speak to a monarch in that manner.

Perhaps, three days ago, you would have believed that she was genuinely one of yours if you hadn’t noticed the numbness in your fingertips and the slightest shade of purple underneath your nails - like that of a dead man’s.

“I was just getting some water from the table,” you simply say, holding the glass of water to your lips while you turn another page of the book Yerin lent you - for some reason she’d taken to standing by the sidelines rather than actively trying to get into your good graces.

It was not a mystery why - what happened that night with Taehyung had embarrassed her greatly yet her family’s status would be ruined if she’d quit being your lady-in-waiting out of the blue.

Two days ago, you would have let the tendrils of guilt bind around your throat until it was hard to even swallow.

You’d noticed it the morning after Taehyung left. The signs were subtle - you didn’t feel any pain but perhaps that was because of your high tolerance from the many times you’d sustained injuries during practice and on the battlefield.

Still, you’d skipped all meals, piling them underneath your bed, leaving empty plates for them to pick up until Eunha helped you bathe and Yerin helped you into your nightgown and combed your hair like she usually would.

It was something in the way the latter’s brows come together in a mutual uncertainty as she ran the comb through your hair, “your majesty, I hope I’m not overstepping my boundary but...”

“What is it?” Your tone was as cold as the fingers in your lap - perhaps, on days she didn’t hold so much motive to harm you, there would not have been so much animosity directed to her.

“Um - it’s just, you seem awfully quiet today - are you alright?” The mirror reflected every movement of her eyes as they darted away from your heated gaze, towards the corner of the room and finally fixed on your hair.

It could have meant many things. A mouse who got her tail stuck in the trap, being one of it.

But you couldn’t call the guards and have her thrown into prison with just a mere hunch - an assumption.

Eunha was not entirely out spared from it either.

With a sigh, you’d dismissed her with a, “I’m just tired - it’s my first time being pregnant and a Queen.”

As though you did not just snap at her a minute ago, Yerin had chuckled - it was the first time she ever did anything that required lowering the guard around you, apples on her cheeks and all whilst her hand went to cover her mouth, “I see, I can’t fit my foot on either shoes but I shall pray for my Queen’s health and safe labor.”

It had taken you awhile to register her well wishes and another to finally respond, “thank you, Yerin.”

As soon as she was gone, you’d hurried to the window. Torches lined down the pathway towards the garden and a few more scattered across the maze-like bushes. The moon had beamed at you in greeting.

“Jungkook?” You whispered into the night but it was another man who’d stepped out from the shadows.

“Not tonight - Jungkook has errands to run.” Yoongi informed, eyes as unfazed as ever.

By ‘errands’ he’d mean going to the bars and pubs - that was where rumors, regardless whether true or not, spread like wildfire. Jungkook had been your ghost - your eyes and ears.

“Come inside - we’re going to pay the physician a visit.” You left the window half-agape and disappeared into your closet where the cloak you’d used time and time again to sneak out, was lying in the corner underneath your ground-swept ballgowns.

There wasn’t so much as a thud to signal his entrance but you’d instructed him to bunch up the cloth that you’d piled your lunch and dinner over under your bed regardless. When you’d stepped out of the closet, dark cloak hanging around your body - you didn’t think it’d cover your stomach but it did - Yoongi already had one hand clenched around the cloth.

You’d use the servant’s passage to avoid the guards - anyone who could have been planted here to keep an eye on what you’ve been up to, make sure you weren’t going far and beyond what they wanted and if you did they’d-

“Poison, your majesty.” The physician had been a man in his 60′s with graying hair and beard and moon spectacles sitting atop his bulbous nose. He’d stood in front of you with a darkened expression in a worn out green robe he’d hastily thrown on after being woken up from his deep slumber, “the way the tip of your fingers were blue and dark veins begin to appear over your stomach - I’m sure it’s because you’ve consumed the extract of the bloodflower.”

The rapid thrumming of your heart had spread throughout your body yet your voice had been startlingly calm as you’d gently rubbed the skin stretched over your stomach, just above the spot where you’d felt the kick of another life from within - perhaps it was the knowledge that your child was still alive that had grounded you, prevented you from ordering an execution of whom you did not want to think about.

“And my child?”

“I cannot say for certain,” he shook his head, “it is difficult to ascertain the amount from the food you’d brought as it’d been mixed together - I will send my apprentice-”

“No,” you speak over him, voice as sharp as the two swords hung over the wall just above the headboard in your chamber, “speak of this to no one. I will send you one of my ghosts - he’ll assist you in getting whatever you need to do to get the antidote. For now, whoever orchestrated this thinks we don’t know so they will be unprepared.”

You’d stood up from the chair, forcing your wobbling knees to hold you up even though all you want is to crawl into your bed and bury yourself under layers of blanket as though it would protect you from the spiteful hands of those who wanted to harm you and your child.

But it was the unsettlingly warm desire of Taehyung’s arms wrapping around you that made you clear you hold your chin higher as inner protest.

The physician lowered his head as he cede before speaking again, “one more thing, your majesty, if I may be so bold, I would advice against straining yourself working given the circumstances and until I’ve made a concoction of the antidote.”

“That’s reasonable,” you say after a moment of pondering - the physician’s crestfallen expression being caused by your next words, not going unnoticed but neither do you plan to change it, “but I can’t simply put matters of segregating resources to cities on hold whenever I want to.”

“You could have rang and I’d come and get it for you.” Eunha’s huff tears you away from your recollection. Hands planted on both sides of her hips, she’s a remark away from bursting into a nag.

“Alright,” you shut the book gently, but not before marking the page you’re on, “will you help me prepare for the day, Eunha?”

Despite her drawn brows and conflicted pout, she relents a heartbeat later, “as you wish, your majesty.”

Eunha helps you bathe and change into a teal dress that arrived from one of the boutiques from the capital. Except where you would accept her hand in assisting you to walk, you hold yours out to Yerin. The woman stares at you as though you’ve grown another head for the longest moment before dropping her own in a courtesy, “your majesty.”

Smiling, you hook your arm around hers when she offers it, noticing Eunha’s darkening expression before you begin to tread towards your office. The whole time, she trails behind you and Yerin like a maid would had it been within your own castle in the Northern Kingdom. Had your rise not been so opposed by the aristocrats and ministers that you were forced to find alliance in someone whose status was on the other side of the sphere compared to yours.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #bts fluff #bts fanfics #bts fics #jungkook fanfics #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #knight!jungkook #princess!reader

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shreddedparchment · 5 years ago

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.05

A Consummate Marriage

10/06/2019

Pairing: Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,878

Warnings: language, dub-con, semi-graphic, teeny bit of violence, angst

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written a scene like the one I write towards the end. Please be kind as it is important for the story and it’s not meant to be sexy at all, at least not after a certain point. If you do not like dub-con, please consider not reading this chapter. Or if you do, please remember you were warned. I’m super nervous about this chapter but also excited to share it because it is SO important for the future of the relationship in this story. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work!

Your world is a flurry of planning. Measuring. Nervous questions muttered into Nat's ear as she shakes her head to the woman measuring you to alter your wedding dress.

“Isn’t tomorrow too soon?” You worry, watching the gray-haired seamstress as she stoops down low to pin the lower hem of your dress.

She’s sweating, her white cap—really just a glorified headband—slipping sideways to expose her flushed cheeks.

“Steve wants it tomorrow.” Mother says, moving to hold your sleeves back while she also points at your side. “Bring it in here as well.”

“Yes, but everyone’s having to rush.” You fret.

“My sweet girl, this is not rushing. It’s excitement. Right?” She asks, checking on the women moving around you and pinning your dress, fussing with fixing your bath which Nat suddenly notices.

She rushes towards them and takes the basket of soaps and oils away to look through.

The large copper tub—similar to the one you’d had back at Stark castle but longer—is placed before the large dark stone fireplace. The walls of the room are lined with dark, golden wallpaper that almost seem to glow with the warm light of the fire and candles lit around the space.

The high ceiling is made of similar dark chocolate wood as the hallways in the rest of the castle. The bed, four post with soft pink curtains and beige lace, is made of the same. Soft black sheets and golden pillows fill the plush bed. You’re so exhausted it takes all of your willpower to keep from jumping in.

Frowning at the selection of scents in the basket, Natasha hands it back and then chases the maids off.

“Yes, your Majesty.” The seamstress grunts, sighing in exhaustion.

She doesn’t seem excited.

Your heart aches with fear as she suddenly smiles up at you and you do see the sparkle of join at a wedding. A royal wedding. A reason to celebrate.

But not for you…

“Mother…” You say breathlessly, terror in your eyes.

When her blue eyes meet yours, her smile vanishes.

“Leave us.” She suddenly orders and the women who had been preparing your bath hurry to leave. “Are you done, Moira?”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will go prepare my station.” The seamstress says.

“Thank you. I’ll have Natasha bring you the dress shortly.” Mother tells her, dismissing her too.

The woman leaves and with a nod to Natasha, Natasha moves to make sure that the door is closed, no one around to listen.

“Are we alone, Nat?” She asks, and Natasha nods.

“Yes.”

“Come.” She pulls you towards the large pale blue armchair by the fire behind your tub, sitting you down first before she sits beside you in the other. “What’s the matter? Have you changed your mind?”

She probably doesn’t mean to sound disappointed, you know that. But she does. And you can’t blame her. If you jilt King Rogers, you’ll possibly tarnish relations between the two kingdoms permanently.

“No.” You shake your head, “No. Of course not. I just…”

“Did something happen when you met with Steve earlier?” Nat asks suspiciously.

Steve? Why do they all use first names? They don’t seem to regard titles at all.

Turning shocked eyes on her, she frowns.

“I told you, Pepper. I told you that his rushing meant something was off.” Nat places her hands on her hips, fuming she moves to your bath and begins to prepare it, grumbling underneath her breath.

Mother sighs. “I had hoped that maybe he was just eager to come back to us. That it meant that he’s ready to move on.”

“No one gets stuck in the past like Steve.” Nat gripes.

“What happened?” Mother asks, reaching out to take your hand in her own.

“Nothing.” You smile at her, but it’s forced, and she sees that.

“Y/N, please. If you can’t do this, tell me. The King and I will not force you to do this.” She promises.

You do believe her. Even though you know that she’d rather do this to you than to Morgana, you know that she at least cares.

“I can do this. I know I can. I just wasn’t expecting him to be so-” You take a deep breath and then smile at her. “He told me that I could never make him happy. But there was also something in his eyes…I want to try. Even if he says that I can’t. However, I’m so scared that he’s right and that I will never be able to make him happy. I don’t know if I could live with that type of disappointment. Knowing that I failed as his wife?”

“He actually told you that you could never make him happy?” Nat asks, sounding upset again. Scoffing.

You can only look down at your hands, wondering if maybe seeing you in person is what prompted him to know you won’t make him happy. Maybe he thought he’d like you from your portrait but now that he’s seen you in person, he knows that you won’t?

“There’s something I think you need to understand, darling.” Pepper begins, scooting to the edge of her seat, making her royal red gown to rustle. She takes a firmer hold on your hand, caressing it with comfort as her blue eyes bore into yours. “Steven Rogers was a very happy man. There is a large portion of his life that you will have to discover on your own because no one can tell Steve’s story like he can. It’s his to tell. But the last bit. The bit that’s stuck with him the strongest, is the one that matters right now.

“Steve married the love of his life.”

Strange how that hurts to hear.

“He met her when his Kingdom had just gone to war and their love was very passionate. It was one of those loves that embeds itself into your bones and changes you forever. Margaret was strong. She knew herself and she had firm opinions that Steve admired. She was happy. She laughed and laughed the most with him. Together they were two halves of one whole and when he asked her to marry him, the Kingdom rejoiced. The War was won, and they got married and I’d never seen him so happy.

“His life was everything that he’d hoped it would be and then she died. He lost everything. Not just Margaret but his love of life. Any hope for his future. Any sort of happiness. She took it with her, and Steve hasn’t been the same since.

“We were all very close at one time and the treaty didn’t help but when Margaret died, he completely cut us off. Tony has been reaching out since and Steve only just responded.”

“Why?” You ask, feeling sick to your stomach.

You’re marrying a man who has already had his happy ending. He was as happy as life could possibly make him and then it was taken from him. You can never make him that happy again.

“We think that maybe he was receiving some pressure from his council members. He’s young and he should have a wife. He also needs an heir to the throne.” Nat provides, standing up after spreading more wine-colored peonies over top the water steaming from your tub.

“So, it’s out of a sense of duty that he’s marrying me?” You’d thought that might be a possibility, but you’d begun to hope with the quick way he’d responded to your portrait that maybe he actually likes you.

“Love can grow from duty.” Mother offers. “We’ve said this over and over, but you need to know that this will be hard. For a while, you will probably have more bad days than good.”

“And things might also never get better, right?” You sigh.

“Yes.” Mother nods. “They might not. You don’t have to do this, Y/N.”

You smile at her weakly, then get up and move to Nat. She moves around you and begins to unlace the back of your dress and carefully slides it off your form.

“Yes, I do.” You tell mother, “I will serve my father. And my Kingdom. I’ll marry him and make the best of it. I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nat praises before offering her hand so that you can step into the tub.

Naked, you settle into the hot water, gasping lightly at the burn.

“Darling,” Mother says, getting up and moving around to squat down beside the tub in front of your fire. “If things don’t get better. You always have a home with us. Just say the word and Tony and I will come and get you. He meant it when he said that you’re family.”

Her words make you happy, but there is no question of you ever leaving. You will make this work or die trying. You will serve your kingdom and even if he think you can’t, you will find a way to make Steve happy.

The bells of the city ring continuously as you and Steve ride through the city. The procession is large, with carriages in front carrying your family, Bucky and another Knight you’d met just before the ceremony named Samuel—or Sam, as he insisted—ride on horses on either side of your carriage.

The rabble cheer. Rose petals of every color rain down on you and Steve from the windows of tall buildings where the citizens of Steve’s capital city celebrate.

You can’t help but smile as his people celebrate their new Queen. Your dress is beautiful, off the shoulder with sheer white voile sleeves that hang off your arms with golden hems and intricately embroidered white roses that run along the entirety of the gown.

Your hair had been picked up, carefully piled atop your head in messy waves that somehow still look majestically disheveled. The large golden crown atop your head, perfectly round with an even bottom and a tapered top, several silver stars adorning the center all the way around definitely helps with the regality of your outfit.

Nervous beyond reason, you turn your bashful smile on your new husband. Steve is a vision in white silks, silver and golden embroidery along his top, his trousers are black, a line of golden vine along the sides.

His own crows sits atop his own head.

He’s beautiful and kingly, and he’d taken your breath away when you’d walked into the large church to get married.

His own gaze has remained the same. Save for a small uncertainty when you’d first met his eyes across the church, he’s looked just as stoic as he does now. The only difference is that in the church he’d had his jaw clenched the entire time.

Now, there’s a defeat in his expression that makes your smile fade.

“Your Majesty?” You check, reaching over to take his left hand but just as your fingertips touch his hand, he lifts it and waves at his people.

“Wave at our people, your Majesty.” He orders and avoids looking at you.

You do as he asks, chewing on your lower lip as you remind yourself that you signed up for this. You could have told father—King Tony—no when he’d first asked you to do this. You could have gone back to your sewing hut and gone on starving and being free to come and go as you please, but you accepted this path.

Patience. You urge yourself. Knowing that getting through to Steve will not be easy. It’ll be a long time probably before he’ll even feel comfortable enough to speak around you without that hint of animosity in his tone.

You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you wish he could have his Margaret back, but you think if you said that, he’d probably hate you more. Plus, you really want him to tell you about his pain in his own time.

“Your Majesty…” You begin again, not looking at him as you wave and force a smile. “…Steve.”

Your heart stops and you wait for him to get angry, but there’s only silence from your right.

“Please, call me by my name when we’re together. I-I’m your wife now. I want to know you.” And those last words are heavy. You mean that in every sense.

“You must do as you wish, your Majesty.” He says pointedly.

With a pit in your stomach, you try not to let your shoulders slump but you’re realizing that this is going to be harder to deal with than you thought.

“Never mind, your Majesty. I will follow your lead.” You continue to wave as Steve sighs heavily beside you.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve,” Bucky begins as he dismounts and watches as Steve steps off the carriage then turns to offer you his hand.

“Not now.” Steve tells him, not a care in the world that you’re standing there with him while he clearly argues with Bucky.

“Yes. Now.” Bucky stops beside him, scowling at him as you step down.

“I won’t have this discussion again.” Steve insists.

Once he’s sure that you’re safe on the ground he turns and walks away with Bucky trailing behind him.

By the time you lift your dress a bit to follow, his long legs have already taken him away from you a bit.

Bucky looks back at you, shooting you an apologetic look before he turns back to Steve with a frown. “Steve, you need to think about what sort of precedent you’re setting. It’s your wedding days. The servants are watching you and the new Queen. How do you think they’ll treat her if you don’t-”

He must have seen the two of you talking on the way back to the castle.

“Your Majesty?” Nat says, and you turn to look at her as Steve and Bucky fall out of earshot.

This time you force yourself to look happy. To look fine even though you feel like there’s an anvil in your chest, weighing you down.

“Nat…” You begin as she curtsies deep. “Stop that.”

“I can’t.” She chuckles. “You are Queen now and you are the highest women in the Kingdom. You deserve respect and admiration and I am more than happy to give it.”

If only Steve felt the same way.

“Thank you.” You keep your smile, intent on making sure that no one sees what Bucky did in the carriage. “Let’s go catch up with the King.”

You can see Steve and Bucky bickering by the large pale doors settled against the dark wooden wall. Beyond it you know there’ll be a wedding feast with more food than you’ve seen in your entire life. There’ll be music and merry making and dancing and everything that doubles and triples joy when there is a wedding to be celebrated.

They stop as you get closer and Steve turns towards the doorway and holds out his left arm for you.

“Shall we…” Steve looks at Bucky then clears his throat. “…my darling?”

Hearing Steve’s deep tone say those words, call you by something so sweet, nearly makes you faint. But the excitement is momentary as you realize that Bucky’s scolding is what’s prompted him to say it. He’s doing it for show and stupid girl that you are, you want it to be real.

You nod.

Steve leads you through and the cheers that greet you are deafening, quickly followed by lively music.

~~~~~~~~~~

The timbrel is too loud. The clack, clack, clack, of the jingles keeps pulling your eyes to the band on the second floor of the large ballroom. It’s not obscenely large. Enough for the gentry, all of Steve’s council, and friends.

But it’s full and the dancing has been going on for a while. The lute plays its melodies and the harp makes you happy. The recorder sounds pretty, and you enjoy the slow dances as well as the fast ones.

It’s when the fast ones play that you edge to your seat and clap along. You look to your side and Steve sits still, elbows on the arms of his chair. Storm blue eyes intent on the crowd, endless in their daze.

He’s no here. You can see that.

He’s somewhere else and you wonder what heartbreak he must have endured to withdraw from his friends. How lonely must he have been these past two years? How much must he have loved Queen Margaret to still be this sad?

Not that you expect he’ll ever think of her without feeling sad. Losing someone, you know there’s no forgetting them.

Your parents are always with you and you miss them and sometimes it kills you to think of them because you can never have them again. But it’s always a few moments taken to feel it and then you move on, because that’s all you can do.

Steve must be struggling with that. How can you help him?

You follow his gaze and this time notice that he’s watching Nat and Bucky. They’re twirling around each other, laughing as the music picks up in beat.

Slowly, Steve’s expression softens, and his lips curve up slightly on the corners. It’s subtle but so beautiful and your heart pounds in your chest at the sight.

“They make a beautiful couple.” You lean over slightly to say to him.

There’s no need to whisper as no one is paying attention to you or Steve. Everyone is celebrating. Occasionally someone will look towards the two of you and raise their sparkling crystal goblets and both you and Steve will nod slowly, but they go back to their fun and leave the two of you to sit at the head of the table, observing the party with piles of more food than you can eat in front of you.

“Yes.” Steve agrees, still smiling.

Then, like he’s just realized that it’s you speaking, his smile vanishes and he looks at you with a small scowl that furrows his brow.

He’s like sculpted marble, hard and gorgeous, blonde hair looking soft enough to run your fingers through.

You want to do it, but you know that he’d hate it.

You’re in too deep, Y/N. You chastise yourself, recognizing the affection you have for him already even though he’s been cold towards you.

“Why aren’t they married yet? From what I saw of them together, it seems like Bucky would like very much to-”

“Bucky?” Steve suddenly asks, voice tight with tension as he eyes you, his scowl deeper. “Bucky?”

You realize your mistake a little too late. Referring to him so casually… “I mean, Sir James. I-When I saw him last, he asked me to call him-”

“If he asked you to then do as you wish.” Steve settles and looks away from you, angling his body towards the opposite side from where you’re sitting.

Internally you cringe. Hating yourself for letting Bucky’s name slip. He’s already apprehensive of your being here, and you call his closest friend by his first name? He must think you’ve gotten too comfortable too quickly.

Three more dances pass, another quick and two slow. As the fourth begins, more upbeat, you angle yourself towards Steve again and this time reach out for his hand.

It settles hesitantly over his, fingers light as feathers as you bask in the surprisingly rough texture. Not abhorrently rough. Rough like yours. Like he’s had to work with his hands.

He has been to war. That makes sense. He must also have scars.

“Your Majesty?” You check, speaking slowly. It’s like you’re afraid to startle him. As if he were a deer listening for the twang of a bow.

He stares at your hand, eyes intent as he observes it?

“We haven’t danced yet.” You tell him, as if he doesn’t already know. “Isn’t it customary for a King and his Queen to-”

Suddenly he rises, his chair crying out as it scrapes against the stone floor beneath your feet. He turns his hand over and takes yours, pulling you up to stand.

Everyone stops what they are doing, turning to face you and Steve, waiting with bated breath while your heart flips and your stomach tumbles.

Finally, a dance!

“We will retire to the marriage bed.” He says, and your heart falls.

However, you have no time to look disappointed because he’s pulling you around the chairs as everyone bows and curtsies. You search for your adoptive parents, yearning to see Tony’s and Pepper’s faces before your life changes forever, but they are nowhere in sight. You catch Nat’s eye and she’s frowning, staring at you as you plead with her silently for help.

This moment you hadn’t thought at all about. The one thing that would make this marriage irreversible. Another duty. One that you would have been eager to perform if you weren’t completely sure that Steve hates you.

You see Nat jab Bucky’s side and together they move around the crowd and take a back door as Steve leads you down hallway after hallway in silence towards your room.

Every echoing step takes you closer to uncharted territory. You’ve never been with a man. Of course, that’s what people expect.

You’re a princess after all. One from an esteemed house and a virgin is what a King deserves.

Steve finally stops before your door, drops your hand and looks you straight in the eyes.

“I’ll return in ten minutes.” He promises, then turns and moves down to the end of the hall where he disappears through another door.

A second later, Nat turns the far corner of the hallway and she hastens her steps, Bucky behind her.

“Come along, your Majesty.” Nat says and she scoops you into the circle of her arms to nudge you into your room.

Bucky walks past you two and heads to the end of the hallway where Steve had disappeared.

The room is stifling.

“It’s hot.” You tell Nat and she hurries to douse the fire with a pitcher of water. It sizzles and weakens but doesn’t die completely.

She throws the windows open but then she’s on you, peeling your dress away. Carefully she pulls your arms from their lace sleeves.

“Nat, what am I supposed to do?” You wonder, fear slowly taking hold.

“Do?” She laughs. “Nothing. He’ll do most of the work. I think that’s usually best for nights like this. When you two know each other better then maybe you can explore your strengths but for now, just lay back and try-”

“Will it hurt?” You ask her, and she stops unlacing your back to turn you around.

“Are you really a virgin?” She wonders, searching your face for a lie.

You nod.

“I thought that maybe-” She begins.

“That maybe because I was born a peasant that I’d lain with someone already? Just because I’m poor, that doesn’t make me-”

“No!” Nat gasps, shocked by your train of thought. “No. Sweet Y/N. That’s not what I mean. I just thought that—rather I hoped that maybe you’d been in love before. That this wouldn’t be the first time you felt something for someone and that maybe you wouldn’t be unprepared for tonight.”

You understand her hope and her worry.

“And you’re not poor anymore.” She gives your arms a squeeze then turns you around again to finish undressing you. She removes your under garments and you stand there, naked until she sets your wedding dress aside and helps pull over your head a sheer white lace chemise. It runs all the way down to the floor, flowing outwards like a lily but loose and clings only to your bust and the first bit of your torso. She ties it at your neck, a loose bow then pulls over that a second sheer robe that does little more to hide your body than the nightgown itself.

It feels divine against your skin though, and you grab a bit of the robe to examine the lace pattern.

“Peonies?” You ask her and she smiles.

“You remind me of a peony.” She admits. “Shy and honorable. I also hope that you have a happy marriage and I may have suggested to Pepper that if we got you a nightdress with them laced in, that maybe it would bring you luck.”

You smile at her softly, touched by her forethought. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Let’s just get your hair down, and you’re ready.” She reaches up to unpin your hair and it falls down across your shoulders in those carefully ironed waves.

She moves it, adjusting it until it’s just right when the door behind her opens.

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach and all previous worries vanish as Steve walks in wearing the exact same trousers he’d been wearing for the wedding, but his regal white jacket is gone, replaced by a plain white shirt, untucked. The neck open exposing the hard edges of his chest muscles, a soft patch of dusty blonde hair peeking out.

He’s watching you, eyes trained on you with a relentless stoicism that you can’t decipher. Is he as excited as you are? As nervous?

Your hands feel weak. Like the fuzz when a limb falls asleep. Detached, like they might float away. Legs too. Your entire body is floating and clearly, no longer yours.

It’s his.

Nat backs away from you, moving to the door before she gives a deep curtsy and with one last encouraging smile, she backs out and shuts the door.

Your mouth is parched from nerves and no words can form in such a desert. So, you simply look up at Steve’s face then back down to his hands as they hang limply at his sides. Then back up to his face, at his staring storm blue eyes, then back down.

He steps closer and you guide your gaze back up, searching his face for a hint of what he might be thinking.

Those storm blues are taking you in, running down along your legs to your feet then back up slowly along your hips, waist, stomach, chest, shoulders, and finally your face.

Is he disappointed?

You open your mouth as if to ask him, but nothing comes out but a soft rush of anxious air. The anticipation is unbearable.

As he moves towards you slowly, causing you to back up until your legs hit the end of your bed, he reaches back behind his neck to pull at his shirt. He takes it off, then throws it onto your pale blue armchair.

The sculpt of his body is stunning. Just as you’d imagined, he’s chiseled with the labor of his training and…more than that. He’s without flaw. Like he was made to be so. Carved from clay and cooked until he’d hardened into solid mass.

Maybe he’s part God? Maybe his father was Asgardian or his mother? How can he be so ethereally beautiful and not be?

He reaches for the drawstring at the front of his pants and your eyes follow the movement.

You swallow hard, terrified to be a disappointment for him but when he drops his pants, you can see that you are not. At least in this way, you’ve pleased him.

You sigh, relieved, eager, scared.

He stands erect, long and sufficiently thick peach cock, soft pink swollen head, throbbing visibly in a patch of more blonde hair, and you wonder if it hurts him to be so stiff.

You want to touch it. Having never touched one…but more importantly, you want to touch Steve. Your mouth is very nearly back to normal as it begins to water with surprising desire.

When he steps out of his pants, your attention is drawn back to his face and away from the array of fantasies that have overtaken your mind.

He’s only a foot away from you now and you can’t back away anymore so when his hands find your hips—a scorching touch that burns through your thin nightdress—you nearly fall back against your mattress but reach up to take hold on his shoulders.

For one long moment he stares into your eyes and you stare into his. His arms wrap themselves around you, tracing the curves of your woman’s body. The way they linger and caress, it feels like he’s been needing this type of touch.

The skin of his shoulders is so soft, you trace the shape up to the nape of his neck where your fingers tickle the small hairs for only a moment before a strange hiss from his lips draws your eyes to them.

You want to kiss him, those pink lips, but then his hands are hard on your waist. Too tight.

He lifts you and pushes you back onto the bed, moving a bit more quickly now and his previously intense expression is altered, pained. As if something is hurting him.

“Steve?” You wonder as you lay on your back and he begins to crawl over you.

He frowns.

Gripping the bottom of your nightdress he yanks it up. The sound of a tear startles you.

“Steve, wait.” You whisper, breathless as his weight pushes you down into the mattress.

“Stop saying my name.” He grumbles.

He forces your nightgown up until it’s wrapped around your waist and he nudges your legs apart with his knee.

You try to resist for only a second, but his strength is too much and you remember that it must happen. In one split second, you remember that this is your duty.

Trying to relax you put your hands on his shoulders again, but this makes him move faster and he’s up, kneeling between your legs as he takes firm grip of your thighs and spreads them wider.

Your neck and ears burn in embarrassment as he opens and exposes you for him to see. Your hands fumble down to cover yourself but Steve shoves them away as he settles between your legs again and without warning he nudges at your entrance.

You gasp, shocked by the stretch of just his tip. “Oh…” You cry, suddenly terrified by the large girth and length you’d seen earlier.

He stops for a moment, staring down at you as you meet his gaze and you see confusion flash across his face.

“Ste-?” You begin but then his confusion is gone, and he pushes into you in one hard thrust.

You make to scream, to cry out in agony as he pierces you and rips you apart inside. All that comes out is a high-pitched wheeze.

The feeling of something being where it doesn’t belong, uncomfortable. The burn of his stretch, painful.

Your body stiffens and you fist the black sheets of your bed as he stills for only a second then he’s pulling back and you shake your head.

“Please…” You beg, wishing he’d go slower. Wishing he’d stop for just a moment so that you can wrap your body and your mind around this new sensation.

It’s too painful and you need time to adjust. If he’d just go slow…

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t stop. He thrusts into you again. And again. And again, and again and again.

He burns you and scars you as he pushes himself up off of your torso to gain more traction and pump himself into you faster. Harder. The sound of his skin slapping against yours is loud and you shake your head some more protesting the lurid sound.

A trail of tears stain your cheeks and drip into your hair as your legs bounce and your body is jerked upwards with every thrust. With a sudden bloom of heat from between your legs, you quickly look down and shudder at the sight of blood.

“Wait…” You plead. “Please...I beg you…”

But Steve doesn’t stop. He moves faster, huffing with the effort of thrusting into you. His hands wrap around underneath you, to hook up into your shoulders.

“Please…” You cry, a sob. “Steve…”

He growls, frustrated. “Stop saying my name!”

He reaches down to hold your hip down into the bed with one hand while he pistons into your bleeding and torn cunt.

“Steve…” You plead, one final time as he groans and buries himself deep within you, a splash of heat warming you from the inside again, but this time you know it isn’t blood.

He thrusts two more times, emptying himself into you as it is his duty to do so and you wait while he does, as you’re supposed to.

Your duty. Produce an heir. This is your job.

But you’re crying, and your body is trembling. There’s fear in your eyes and sorrow in your heart.

He pulls away from you. As he slips out of you, the discomfort renews and you cry out, tears rushing down your cheeks.

Steve stops.

He stares at you, storm blue eyes narrowed in disbelief as you sob.

You turn away from him, trying to hide the shame of the red between your legs. You pull your nightdress down, legs pulled up as you curl in and try to relax your body from the savage consummation of your marriage.

Steve slides to the end of your bed and he sits at the edge for what feels like an age. Hands at his sides, gripping tightly to the bed as he stares at the floor of your room while you continue to sob quietly.

At last, without a word, he rises. He pulls on his pants and his shirt and without another look back at you, he leaves you alone in your room to fall apart in peace.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nat turns towards the doorway as she hears the inner doors open. She wasn’t expecting it to be over so quickly. It hasn’t even been half an hour.

The second set of doors open and Steve marches out looking sweaty and pale.

He stops, staring at Natasha for a moment before he looks at Bucky.

For two minutes he merely stands there. Mute. Thinking. When they can no longer take the silence, Bucky opens his mouth first.

“You’re not staying with her?” Bucky asks, startled it seems by Steve’s reappearance. “I thought-?”

But Steve doesn’t wait. He moves between them and heads back to his own room.

Nat meets Bucky’s equally concerned gaze.

“I’ll go see what happened.” Bucky tells her.

“I’ll do the same.” She nods.

Bucky moves past her and hastens after his King. When he’s out of sight, Nat turns towards the doors to your room and heads inside.

She’s not sure what she was expecting to find. From the way Steve stormed out, she was thinking that maybe he hadn’t been able to do it.

It’s been so long since he’d been with anyone that she could see him being nervous or anxious about sleeping with you. She also knows how much he misses Margaret and she would have understood if he hadn’t been able to sleep with you because of that reason but the room wreaks of sex and what she finds is not what she expects.

“What are you doing?” She asks you, watching you stoop down to lay your black sheets in the basket she’d designated for your dirty laundry.

You stand up, smiling at her sweetly before shrugging and fixing your new nightdress, the plain white one with the small bow at the neck that you’ve been wearing since you moved in with Tony.

“I bled.” You admit to her and Nat narrows her eyes.

“Where’s your other nightgown? Are you alright?” She asks you, suspicious by your calm demeanor.

“Yes. A little sore.” You turn away from her as she gets closer and move to your remade bed. “But I’m okay. I’m tired.”

She can clearly see you avoiding the first of her questions but watches you sit on the edge, and the careful way that you settle onto it.

You’re more than just sore…why are you lying?

“Consummation was a success.” You declare and turn to smile at her. “But, really, Nat. I’m very tired. I’d like to just go to bed, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, it is.” How can you still not understand that what you say goes? She’ll drill that into you until you accept it. “Sleep well, your Majesty.”

And the fact that you lay down and don’t fight her on the title gives her worry. Certain that something has gone wrong, she turns on her heel and follows Bucky to investigate herself.

~~~~~~~~~~

The small table hits the wall and shatters into pieces. Legs and knobs fly around the room. Bucky ducks to avoid one.

Steve moves to the large desk in his office and he slams his hands against the sturdy oak, making it creak under the strength of his weight.

“Are you going to trash your office now? Oh, yeah. That’s an excellent plan your Majesty, by all means, break everything in sight.” Bucky snarks annoyed with him more than anything.

Steve knows that he’s being unreasonable, but he needs to relieve this stress somehow and it’s too late to go hunting.

Shoulders heaving, he hears the door open and the quiet step of his other best friend.

“What happened?” Nat asks, disapproval in her voice probably for the mess that Steve’s made of his office.

He looks up behind his desk, staring at the source of his woes.

Margaret—her portrait—sitting there in her bright red dress, red lips, carefully curled brown hair, that twinkle skillfully painted into her eyes just as she’d had in real life…she’s watching him. Smirking at the way he’s struggling.

“Steve’s throwing a fit.” Bucky sighs.

“No. What happened?” She asks pointedly and Steve’s heart drops.

“Oh.” Bucky breathes in deeply, then releases the breath slowly. “He didn’t exactly make the best first impression on her in bed.”

“That tells me nothing, James. Did you or did you not sleep with her?” Nat asks, glaring at Steve’s back.

“I slept with her.” Steve relents. “I…”

He looks down at his hands again and it all flashes back like a bad dream. His hands gripping her flesh too hard, fingers buried in against her skin as she struggles—he’s sure she didn’t even realize she was struggling as much as she was—and the sobs that tear through her throat.

And all he could do was push into her.

“I hurt her.” Steve grieves, looking up at Margaret again.

“Did she ask you to stop?” Nat asks through clenched teeth.

Steve shakes his head. “No. But she asked me to slow down. She asked me to…I should have been gentler. I just…”

“You just let your stupid ideas about Margaret get in the way.” Bucky supplies. “She’s dead Steve.”

“I know that.” Steve says sternly.

“You are allowed to be married again. You are allowed to sleep with your wife.” Bucky insists.

Steve says nothing, but his back tenses and Bucky pounces.

“Yes, Steve. You heard me. Wife. She is your wife now, Steve. You married her today. You had a week to change your mind. You saw her picture. You chose her. You accepted her. So, you’re going to have to put her first from now on. Margaret is no longer your wife.”

“It doesn’t feel like that to me!” Steve shouts, turning to look at Bucky with raging blue eyes. “Maggie still feels like my Queen. She is my queen. My wife. I married her. I chose her. I…I wasn’t ready for...for Y/N.”

Both of his friends stare at him with disapproving scowls and he knows that he’s wrong, but he can only be honest. If not with them, then with who?

“I’m not ready for her.” He admits.

Nat sighs, shutting her eyes as she covers her mouth with her hand. Steve can see her regretting her part in this marriage even if she holds no guilt for what he just did or for what he’s still doing.

Bucky moves towards him, shaking his head.

“You had a choice in this, Steve. The council gave you a year to find someone to marry before they would begin proceedings to move your cousin onto the throne. You decided to reach out to Tony. You had the chance to reject her when he sent her portrait. You have set your course and now you can’t undo it.

“Whether you’re ready for her or not, you have a wife and she’s your responsibility now. She doesn’t deserve what you did to her tonight.”

“I know.” Steve laments. “I know…I just…she wouldn’t stop saying my name and all I could hear was Margaret and I-”

“It felt like infidelity?” Nat offers.

“Yes!” Steve nods, grateful for the understanding. “Yes, I felt as if…like I was being unfaithful to Maggie.”

“You’re an idiot.” She counters. “However, you are my king now. And I will serve you and your Queen until the day I die. I will do so with unwavering loyalty. But you will fix this, Steve. I don’t know how, but you better make this up to her.”

Steve knows that she’s right but as he turns to look at Margaret’s portrait, he feels his heart waver, wishing that she’d come back to him and make this all go away.

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