#do not chastise the dove: a royal moon knight au

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (epilogue) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: a look into what the future holds.

word count: 6,120

warnings?: visiting elaine’s grave, talks of death, pregnancy announcement, inaccurate depictions of giving birth, marc being anxious about being a father, fluff, pet name (dove), not proofread 

The Royal Cemetery was a place that was rarely visited. It was completely closed off from the public. Only members of the Royal Family and their guests were allowed to enter. You had only gone once before, just after your mother had passed. You were supposed to be in school at the time, but it had not even been a week since she had been buried. You couldn’t focus on your studies at all, so you found yourself sneaking out the back door and walking all the way to the cemetery. You sat in front of your mother’s grave well past nightfall. You told her all about how you missed her, how you wished you could have hugged her one last time, told her you loved her one more time. You had every intent on staying there forever, but Pearl arrived just as the stars began to twinkle.

When you returned to the palace, Benjamin banned you from going to the cemetery again. At the time, you convinced yourself that he had been worried about you, that he didn’t know where you had gone. You had been so sure that if you asked just nicely enough, he might visit your mother’s grave with you one day. That day never came. Now, you knew he banned you from the cemetery because he cared about his public image. The King didn’t know where the Princess was? He couldn’t keep track of his daughter? It was a tabloid mess if there ever was one. That day had been the beginning of the end of your freedom for a long, long time. 

It was strange being back there now. It was even stranger being there with company. Marc held your hand tight, a bundle of flowers in the other. He dropped your hand as he carefully placed the bouquet on Elaine’s grave. He glanced at you, then back to the headstone. 

“Your daughter is a wonderful woman,” Marc said to the headstone. “I…I want you to know she’s in safe hands. I will never let a day go past without her knowing how loved she is. She deserves all the good in the world, and I will make sure she gets that.”

Your mouth quirked up into a smile. It was still so rare for Marc to make grand statements of love and affection. He was more of an actions-speak-louder-than-words kind of person. You, of course, appreciated his actions. You wouldn’t change a single thing about him. But, still, when he had those rare romantic movie type of declarations of love, your heart always soared. You knew how big of a deal it was to him, and so you savored every last word. 

“I wish you could be here,” you said. “There’s not a day that doesn’t go by without me missing you. I like to think, though, that you’re still here, guiding me through life. Guiding me straight to the loveliest, kindest men I’ve ever met. I mean, you did guide me straight to the truth about my birthright, didn’t you? Thank you. I love you, mommy.”

Marc looked at you, his pretty brown eyes soft. “We should come here more often, keep your mom updated on our lives. Maybe even bring Cleo down, our kids when we have them.”

Your smile grew. Marc still had his doubts about becoming a father, but he had slowly started talking more about the future. One day, he even told you how he wanted three kids. He even confirmed that he liked Steven’s suggesting of naming your son, if you should ever have a son, Randall. Sometimes, when he was feeling even bolder, he would tell you about family traditions he wanted to share with the children. How they would have a bar or bat mitzvah. How Marc couldn’t wait to teach them how to play dreidel. How he looked forward to sharing family recipes. Once, you even found him ordering children’s books, ones Steven told you had been his favorite during his childhood. 

“That would be wonderful.” 

Marc slipped his hand into yours, giving it a squeeze once, twice, three times. You bid your mother farewell before the two of you began walking around the cemetery. Every so often, you would point to a headstone, tell Marc about the family member. You weren’t sure how much he was paying attention. Most of his focus, it seemed, was on you and you alone. That is, until a question came to Marc’s mind.

“Is Benjamin buried here? I would have thought he’d be buried beside your mom.”

You pointed to a corner of the cemetery darkened by the shade of a large tree. A new headstone had been placed there, but it was already being destroyed by winding tree roots coming out of the ground. “Over there.”

Marc snorted. “You pick the spot?”

“I would’ve left his grave unmarked if I did,” you said. “I let the groundskeeper handle it. I almost expected him to bury Benjamin beside my mother. That had always been the plan. Benjamin even had the gravesite picked out. But the groundskeeper holds grudges against those who forbid their family from coming here, it seems.”

“Have you got our spot picked out?”

“I was thinking beside my mother. I feel like she might be lonely, all by herself.”

Marc smiled. “That’s sweet of you, dove.”

“And a bit morbid,” you laughed. “Now, come on. I’m starting to get hungry.”

“Good, because Steven’s been begging to eat for the last little bit.”

“And you just let him starve?” you said with a fake gasp. “We’d better go now, then. We can eat and talk more about the future, yeah?”

“Sounds like a perfect plan, dove. A perfect plan indeed.”

Coronation day had finally arrived. You felt like an odd mix of Anna and Elsa from Frozen, Anna’s excitement fueling you but Elsa’s anxieties making you keenly aware of just how many eyes were going to be on you. It felt a bit silly to be so nervous. After all, you had already been Queen for a year. This was more of a formal ceremony than anything. The power was yours, it couldn’t be taken away. However…You certainly could make a fool of yourself. 

What if you tripped on your way into the cathedral? What if, when you got out of the car, the door was shut on the train of your dress and it got ripped as the driver drove away? What if you jumbled up all of your words? What if you dropped the crown? Oh, it could all be a disaster!

“You’re gonna do fine, my dove,” Steven said watching as you fussed over your dress. 

Well, all things considered, even if the worst happened, at least you looked beautiful while it happened. You had chosen an off-the-shoulder blue gown, adorned with floral appliques. It was tradition that royals wear blue—the family color—to coronations. In any case, the dress was gorgeous when you picked it out, and it looked even more gorgeous on you. 

“I’m scared,” you said. 

Steven rose from his seat before you could blink, coming to stand behind you. He put his hands on your hips, turning you around. As you looked at him, he dipped his head, pressing his forehead against yours. “It’s scary going out there,” he said. “Can’t deny that, can I? I can’t. Every time we do a public engagement, I’m terrified that I’ll come out as a bumbling fool. That I’ll trip over my feet or I’ll say the wrong name. But every time, I get up and it turns out fine.”

“What if this time is different?”

“I’ll be there to support you. Marc and Jake, too, if you’d prefer one of them to jump in. Your entire support system, honestly. If you end up doing something silly, we’ll all do the same thing. You fall? I’m taking a tumble too. You start speaking backwards? I’ll jump up and start speaking backwards too. Alright? The only thing you need to be scared of is the press running stories about how the Queen married a brainless half-wit.”

You let out a laugh. “You’d really do that?”

“Without a second thought.”

You bit down on your lip, holding back another laugh. “Well, then I think we should go now, yeah?”

“Lead the way, my Queen Dove.”

The streets were lined with citizens from all over the kingdom and abroad as the driver took you to the cathedral. As the car passed by, cheers erupted from the crowd. Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of people were waving at you, pointing at the car. Your heart lifted at the sight. Part of you knew that many were gathered just to say they caught the glimpse of the Queen on her way to the coronation. But, it felt nice to see so many people there in support of you. 

You reached over, taking Steven’s hand, as the car approached the cathedral. When the car came to a halt and the door opened, Steven got out first before helping you. Attendants descended upon you, aiding you with the long train, ensuring that the door did not slam on it and rip it. Steven walked in front of you, leading the way into the cathedral. You gave a few smiles to the press as you walked, but you mostly kept your gaze focused on the entryway. 

All eyes were on you as you walked inside. You, again, tried to ignore it. Kept your eyes to the front. Focused on the officiant waiting for you. Watched Steven as he went to his seat in the front row. You stopped when you reached the stairs, letting the officiant hold his hand out for you to take as he helped you up the stairs. You turned to face the crowd as the attendants fixed your train.

Finally, you sank into the throne, look out at the crowd. The officiant stepped in front of you. He asked, “Madam, is your Majesty willing and able to take the Sacred Oath?”

“I am willing and able,” you answered.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of our Great Kingdom according to our laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

“Will you promise to protect our Great Kingdom against enemies without and within?”

“I always will.”

“Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”

“I will.”

The officiant took the Royal Scepter from one of the attendants and passed it to you. You held it carefully with both hands, swallowing hard. Wow. This was real. This was becoming a reality—even more so than it already was.

“Then repeat after me.” When you nodded, the officiant continued. “I, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N…”

“I, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N…”

“…will rule with compassion, extending charity and mercy to all my people…”

“…will rule with compassion, extending charity and mercy to all my people…”

“…All this I have promised, I will perform as champion of my beloved country and her people.”

“…All this I have promised, I will perform as champion of my beloved country and her people.”

The officiant turned to another attendant, taking the crown off of its velvet pillow. He turned back to you, holding the crown over your head. “In accordance with law and custom, I crown you, /N Y/M/N Y/L/N, Queen of our Great Kingdom.”

He placed the crown on your head, then turned to face the crown. “Long live the Queen.”

The crowd echoed back—perhaps Steven the loudest of all— “Long live the Queen!”

Layla squeezed your hand as you looked at the white stick in your hands. You couldn’t believe it. You had wanted this, but…God, it felt so different when you knew it was a reality. You had been feeling sick for a week, waves of nausea constantly washing over you. This morning, when you looked at your calendar and realized you were weeks late for your period, you sent a worker out to pick up an assortment of pregnancy tests. She came back with five, and all five told you the same answer. 

“When are you going to tell them?” Yelena asked.

“Soon,” you said. “I want to do it today, but…I don’t know. I’m scared that it might scare Marc.”

“Marc will be fine,” Layla assured you. “He’ll be scared shitless, sure. But if you think he might run or stop fronting or whatever you’re worried about…I know him well enough to know he would never abandon you like that. Especially not when you’re in such a vulnerable state. He would sooner die.”

“How should I tell them, though? Should I do something elaborate? Be more coy? I just…Pregnancy announcements are a big deal. I want to get this right.”

“Just tell them outright, don’t make a big fuss of it,” Yelena said. “Walk up to them, say I’m pregnant bitches!, and go about your merry way. No muss, no fuss.”

“…you’re pregnant?”

“No, not me, Y/N,” Yelena said, turning towards the door. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the man in the doorframe. “Oh shit.”

You lifted your head to see Jake standing in the doorway to your office, his jaw slack. You dropped the pregnancy test, it clattering on the desk. 

Scott, who stood behind Jake, peaked around him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a bad time,” he said. 

“It…It’s not a bad time at all. Jake, come in. Um, everyone else…Could we have a bit of privacy please?”

Layla stood up and ushered Scott away. Yelena, however, remained standing beside you. When you raised an eyebrow at her, she let out an “oh!” before following Layla and Scott out, shutting the door behind her. You stood up, picking up one of the pregnancy tests, and walked over to Jake. You took his hand, and placed the test in it.

“Two lines…That means positive?” he asked as he looked at it. 

You nodded. 

“And, you’re sure?”

“I took five tests, all positive. We’ll still have to go to a doctor to check. False positives do happen and all that. Plus, it’s good to just start going to a doctor and getting everything ready. But…Yes. I’m sure.”

Jake’s arms were wrapped around you in an instant, squeezing you tight, nearly lifting you right off the floor. “We’re going to have a baby! We’re going to have a baby! We need to go get a, a crib and a bassinet and a stroller! We need to get baby books and parenting books and diapers! Babies poop a lot, so we should start stocking up now! And—”

You placed your hands on either side of his face, stopping his rambling with a kiss. “Shh, we have months to worry about all of that.”

“Times flies, my dove.”

“Well, waiting a day won’t kill us.” You kissed him again. “How are the others holding up?”

“Steven’s been jumping for joy, trying to take control ever since I walked in here,” Jake said. 

“And Marc?”

“He’s still rambling about all of the things we need to do to prepare for our little baby.”

You let out a laugh. Well, you supposed that wasn’t the worst reaction. In fact, it was probably the best reaction he could have had. “In that case…I suppose it’s time for a celebration, hm?”

Jake wiggled his eyebrows at you as he said, “Oh, I’m ready for the biggest celebration.”

And, oh, he was. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between Her Majesty, Queen Y/N Y/L/N and His Royal Highnesses, Princes Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley in a union commended to be honorable among all,” the officiant said. 

You looked at Marc in front of you, unable to hide your smile on your face. You still couldn’t believe he had offered to front for the public wedding ceremony. The one that would be televised internationally. The one that everyone would be watching. If you were honest, you had thought Steven might have been the one to front again. He was all about grand statements of love, after all. But this…This felt perfect. 

Marc held your hand, his thumb rubbing the top of it. “You look beautiful, my dove.”

You had reworn your dress from the private ceremony, with some small alterations. You were a few months into your pregnancy now, and you were just starting to show. Before the dress had been let out, it had been near impossible to close the dress up without ripping the seams because of your belly bump.

Marc had been…Well, you hesitated to call his reaction feral, but it was pretty damn close when he walked in your dress fitting and saw your bump. For all intents and purposes, he was still incredibly nervous about being a father. But there was something about seeing you carry his child that sparked a sort of energy in him that was near impossible to contend with. 

“And you look handsome, my love.”

“And therefore, this union has not been entered into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly, and solemnly. Into this, these two persons present now come to reaffirm their wondrous union,” the officiant continued. 

The officiant paused, looking between you and Marc, before smiling and continuing, “William Penn tells us to never marry but for love; but see that thou lovest what is lovely. He that minds a body and not a soul has not the better part of that relationship, and will consequently lack the noblest comfort of a married life.

“Between a man and his wife, nothing ought to rule but love. As love ought to bring them together, so it is the best way to keep them well together.

“A husband and wife that love one another show their children that they should do so too. Others visibly lose their authority in their families by the contempt of one another, and teach their children to be unnatural by their own examples.

“Let not enjoyment lessen, but augment, affection; it being the basest of passions to like when we have not, what we slight when we possess.

“Here it is we ought to search out our pleasure, where the field is large and full of variety, and of an enduring nature; sickness, poverty or disgrace being not able to shake it because it is not under the moving influences of worldly contingencies.

“Nothing can be more entire and without reserve; nothing more zealous, affectionate and sincere; nothing more contented than such a couple, nor greater temporal felicity than to be one of them.”

Marc had been the one to pick out the opening reading. He had found the poem among Steven’s books and declared it perfect for the ceremony. And oh, how could you deny him when he pulled out his pretty puppy dog eyes? 

“There are few loves in this world as pure as the one I have witnessed between the Queen and the Prince Consorts,” the officiant said. “In the short time I have shared with them, it has become clear to me, as it should be clear to all, that these two adore each other. Their love is the kind of love we should all strive to have. They care of each other. They respect each other. They ensure the other’s happiness, always. It is surely the kind of love that artists try to paint, that writers try to write, that will endure forever, always.”

You took a moment to look out at the crowd. The cathedral was filled to the brim and then some. This was, after all, the event of the year. Everyone who was anyone wished to attend. Members of Parliament, foreign dignitaries, and, of course, all of your friends. It was almost strange, seeing so many people there. At least, compared to the more intimate, private ceremony. 

You looked back at Marc as the officiant said, “Her Majesty and His Royal Highness have chosen to share the traditional vows.”

The two of you had done personal vows for the private ceremony. You and the boys debated on sharing an updated version of those vows today, but in the end, the answer was clear. Some parts of your love, of your lives, was meant to stay private. The entire ceremony was to be broadcast internationally. The world didn’t need to know all of the ins and outs of your love for each other. 

“Your Royal Highness, if you would repeat after me: I take you to be my wife, my partner in life, and my one true love.”

“I take you to be my wife, my partner in life, and my one true love.”

“I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before.”

“I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before.”

“I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together.”

“I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together.”

“I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.”

“I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.” Marc paused. “And every day after that, too.”

You smiled as the officiant directed you to say the same vows. Once you finished, the officiant said, “We will now exchange rings as a symbol of this couple’s love. May we have the rings?” Layla stepped forward and gave you Marc’s ring and Marc your ring. The officiant looked to Marc, and said, “Your Royal Highness, please repeat after me: I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you.”

“I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you,” Marc said, sliding the ring onto your finger. 

The officiant turned to you. “Your Majesty please repeat after me: I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you.”

“I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you,” you repeated, placing the ring on Marc’s finger.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wife and husband.” The officiant looked at Marc. “You may now kiss the bride.”

“My pleasure,” Marc said. 

Marc grabbed at your waist, spinning you into a dip and kissing you positively senseless. Well, that was certainly going to be the picture plastered across the front page.

As Queen, the annual birthday parade now celebrated your birthday instead of Benjamin’s. The first two years of your reign, you had opted out of the tradition. There was far too much going on between gaining your footing as Queen, planning the coronation and public wedding ceremony, and recovering from the string of attempts on your life. Now, after all of the dust had settled, you decided it was time to revive the tradition. 

You settled in the open carriage, smoothing your hand over your much larger baby bump. You were a month out from delivering your little bundle of joy. This was actually to be your last public engagement for a long while. After this, you planned on resting until you had to go to the hospital. Finally, after months of carrying her, you would finally get to meet your baby Eliana. 

“Little one bein’ fussy?” Jake asked he sat next to you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder, his other hand coming to rest on your belly. “Because I told her this morning that she needed to be extra good for a couple of hours.”

Jake loved doing that. Talking to your baby bump, you mean. Most mornings when you woke up, you would find Jake with his head resting on your bump, telling little Eliana all sorts of stories. About how her daddies were excited to meet her. How he hoped she grew up to be like her mommy. Sometimes, he would tell her fairytales, though he often forgot most of the details and made them up on the fly. (And, sometimes, you woke up and found Marc doing the same, though he often stuck to telling her how much he loved her. You never let him know you caught him, letting him have the moment to himself.) 

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s settled down after breakfast,” you said. “Think she’s taking a nap in there right now.”

“Good.” Jake leaned, kissed the side of your head. The carriage jolted forward as the parade began, leading out onto the streets of the capitol. “Can you believe this time next year, she’s gonna be sitting right here in between us?”

“No,” you said. “I can hardly believe that in a month’s time, I won’t be carrying her in my belly anymore. I think I’m gonna miss it.”

Jake gave you a wicked grin. “Guess we’ll just have to put another baby in ya then, won’t we?”

“Mm, I would like that.”

Before Jake could say any more, your attention was pulled away by the sound of the cheering crowd. You painted on a smile, getting ready to wave at those in attendance. As you got closer to the crowd, though, you spotted a familiar face in the crowd. You tapped your hand against Jake’s leg. He looked at you, following your gaze to the girl in the crowd. Little Daisy stood there with her parents, giving you both a toothy grin. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she shouted when she realized you were looking at her. 

“THANK YOU, DAISY!” you shouted back, turning to look at the way her face lit up as the carriage continued down the road. 

“Did ya hear that? She remembers me!” you heard her say before you turned back around to face the front. 

“I hope Eliana is as happy as Daisy,” you said to Jake. 

“With you as a mommy? She definitely will be.”

You grabbed Jake’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you, my dove.”

“Just one more push!” the nurse said. “Just one big one, okay?”

You screamed as you pushed, gripping Marc’s hand so tight it might break. He squeezed back, telling you encouraging words that you mostly drowned out with your shouts. Then— A noise louder than your screams filled the room as your baby was born.

The nurse held your baby as the doctor cut the umbilical cord. “Congratulations,” she said, smiling widely as you. “It’s a girl!”

“A girl?” you repeated. You looked at Marc, a tired smile on your face. “We’ve got our sweet Eliana. Oh, I can’t wait to hold her!”

“Well, let’s not think about that right now. We got another baby to have,” the doctor said. 

You raised your head off the pillow, looking at the doctor with furrowed brows. “Another? You told us we were having just one!”

“Sometimes, one of the babies blocks its twin in the ultrasounds,” he said. “In any case, you need to get ready to push ‘cause this baby’s coming out whether you only expected one child or two.”

The nurse, who had passed your baby to another nurse so she could be cleaned up, glared at the doctor. “Don’t be such a dick,” she hissed at him. She looked back at you, smiling. “Just gotta do it one more time, okay? Lean back, and start pushing when we tell you to, just like we did before.”

You settled back, head falling on the pillow again. You took a moment to look at Marc, seeing the color drained from his face. “You okay, my love?”

“I wasn’t prepared for two. I was barely prepared for one,” he whispered. 

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “We can handle assassination attempts and hidden family plots, can’t we? We can handle this just fine.”

Marc swallowed hard and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Several minutes, too many pushes, and a sore throat later, your second child was born. A boy, your Randall. You watched as he was taken away, too, to be cleaned up. You glanced at the doctor, who started to get up. 

“No more, right? No secret triplet I should know about?” you asked. 

The doctor shook his head. “Just the two, I swear.”

“You also swore there was just one,” Marc muttered. 

You patted Marc’s arm, turning his attention back to you as the doctor left. “You’re gonna be okay, love. It’s not what we expected, but we always wanted multiple kids. We’re just getting a head start on that big family sooner than expected, yeah?”

“One newborn is hard, two is…unimaginably difficult,” Marc said. 

“We can handle it. And if we can’t, we have a wonderful support system to help us.”

Before Marc could reply, a couple of nurses entered the room, your babies in their arms. “It’s important the babies get plenty of time with mommy,” one of them said, passing you Eliana. The other nurse handed you Randall. Both babies were settled in either book of your arm, nestled in there like it was home. “Don’t want to shock them too much after leaving the womb, hm?”

You thanked them and they soon left the room after telling you to shout if you needed anything. As you and Marc were left alone, you looked at him, seeing his gaze entirely focused on your children. He almost looked like he wanted to ask something but like he was too scared to say anything. You took a shot in the dark as to what that might have been. 

“Go on, my love, hold her,” you said, holding Eliana out towards Marc. 

He stared at her. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His gaze lifted to look at you, his head giving a small shake. 

“She deserves to know all of her fathers. My love, I wouldn’t ask you to hold her if I thought you would drop her or scare her or hurt her in any way. You’re one of her fathers. You deserve to hold your baby.”

Marc looked back at Eliana. He glanced at Randall, nestled in the crook of your other arm. Eliana cooed at him, wiggling in her cocoon of a blanket as if she was trying to reach out for him, practically crying out, hold me! hold me, please!

“I trust you.”

Slowly, Marc extended his arms, one hand going behind Eliana’s head, supporting her as she nestled in his arms. “She’s so tiny,” he breathed out. “She looks like she could be broken so easily.”

“Not so easily. Babies are resilient, you know,” you said. “This is gonna be hard, Marc. I can’t lie to you about that. But we can get through. That’s what matters. That we don’t give up, that we try to do what’s best for our kids. Sometimes, they might love us for it. Others, they might hate us for it. But let them grow up knowing that we all tried.”

Marc sniffed. He leaned down, brushing his nose against the top of Eliana’s head as he kissed her forehead. “I’m gonna protect you. I’m gonna keep you safe,” he whispered. He looked back to you, his eyes glassy. “I’m gonna make sure no one hurts our family.”

You watched as Randall doddled around the ballroom, his chubby little hand clutching Layla’s fingers. Of everyone in attendance, he was probably the most comfortably dressed. Rather than forcing him into a tuxedo and making him uncomfortable all night, you had purchased one of those t-shirts that has a tuxedo design printed on. Paired with some comfy shorts, he was practically wearing pajamas. Eliana was similarly comfortable, wearing a pink t-shirt and shorts. Unlike her brother, though, she had clung to her daddies all night long. 

“Are you gonna let me dance with daddy?” you asked, tickling under Eliana’s chin as the band began a new song.

She shook her head, giggling. 

“Hm…Well, how about we both dance with you?” you asked. 

Her little face lit up. She let out a noise that almost sounded like she said “yess!!”

Steven let out a laugh, adjusting Eliana so he had a better grip on her before leading you and her onto the dance floor. You placed one hand on Steven’s shoulder, wrapping your other arm around Eliana. Steven put one hand on your waist. Together, the two of you swayed to the music.

“Me!”

You looked down, seeing Randall doddling up to you as quickly as he could manage. Layla let out a laugh, scooping him up and helping him get the rest of the way to you. You let go of Steven, balancing your baby boy in your arms, before continuing to sway.

“How could I ever forget my boy?” you asked, kissing his cheeks. “Gotta have both my babies, don’t I?”

It was your first birthday ball since…Well, the horrible one that sent your entire life as you once knew it spiraling. You had chosen to not hold the ball last year when you revived the birthday parade tradition. It was one thing to sit in a carriage and smile and wave for a few hours. It was an entirely different thing to stand in the ballroom for a couple of hours, even if you did forgo the heels. Now, though, as your sweet babies were nearly a year old, it felt right to bring it back. A new family, a better tradition. 

“What about this boy? I think you forgot his kiss this morning.”

You lifted your gaze to look at Marc, who was now fronting. You smiled and leaned in, careful to not bump Randall’s head against Eliana’s, and gave him a gentle kiss. “That better, my love?”

“Hmm, it’ll have to hold me over for now.” He smiled slightly. “Happy birthday, dove.”

The song came to an end and Layla stepped forward, Yelena by her side, offering to watch the kiddos so you and Marc could have a moment to yourselves. You both agreed, passing the toddlers to them, before slipping your hand in Marc’s and leading him out to the balcony. 

“As nervous as I was for all of this,” Marc said, looking up at the stars, “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

You smiled at him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Me neither. Everything is more amazing than I ever could have imagined.”

You felt a shift in Marc’s body language and, when you lifted your head, you realized that Jake was now fronting. “I can think of something that would make this even more amazing.”

A brow raised. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Adding another member to the family.”

You smiled. “You know, I think that would be an amazing birthday present.”

It was almost strange, feeling so happy. So content. For so many years, you had been on edge. You were scared and anxious and hated the way your life was headed. There was a constant weight on your shoulder. But ever since you met your husbands, that weight was slowly being lifted off of you until now, when you felt as light as a feather. You could breathe. You weren’t afraid anymore. Ever since you met your husbands, you felt free to live, to love, to be authentically you. Sure, you still had to paint on a smile for public engagements (after all, anyone who spent their days being attacked by flash photography could much rather glare than smile), but otherwise? You didn’t have to pretend anymore. 

You once thought that, if you had a choice, you would be anything but a royal. You thought that it wasn’t what you wanted. You thought it ripped your freedom from you. You thought you would never be able to do anything right. Now, you knew that this was the life you always wanted. Being a royal had its issues, to be sure. But when you looked at your life that you had built with Marc, Steven, and Jake by your side…You wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“I love you, dove. We all do.”

“And I love you all, too, my loves. Forever and ever.”

And all was well for now and forevermore. 

FIN.

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (19) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry��a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: things become more serious. 

word count: 3,512

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex, pet name (dove), not proofread

There was a pit in Marc’s stomach as he watched the cameras being set up. He knew this was something he, Steven, Jake, and you agreed to. He understood that this was, perhaps, the only real way to deal with the issues with the media. But that didn’t negate the feeling of nervous burrowing deep within his bones. He didn’t want to be fronting for this. He wanted to retreat into the headspace, let Jake or Steven take the reins, and only front again when the dust had settled. 

The system and you agreed that the interview should be held at the palace. You thought it would be best because, if the press caught wind of you and them going to a news station, it would only add fuel to the fire. It was, after all, much easier to sneak people into the palace than to sneak people out of it. Besides, Karen didn’t require very much for her interview. Three cameras, a few people to operate everything, other things Marc lacked the technical skill in to identify…Not a lot by any means. Still, though, as he watched, he got more nervous of what was to come. 

Karen could be trusted, sure. Plus, the interview was not going to be live, so there was not as much pressure on the entire thing. And yet, Marc found himself worrying about the worst possible endings. Would you use all of your support from the public? Would you be pressured to hide your relationship from the public? Would it worsen the threats being made against you? He could handle anything that came his way, that came the system’s way, but when it came to you… You had already been through too much to have to feel anymore heartache. 

Marc was pulled from his thoughts as he felt you squeeze his hand once, twice, three times. A small smile curled across his face. He looked at you, seeing the concern brimming in your eyes. 

Your brows were knit together, your voice was soft, as you asked, “Are you alright with this still? I can ask Karen to reschedule or cancel if you no longer feel comfortable with this.”

His heart swelled. He loved how concerned you were for his, and Jake’s and Steven’s, comfort. Marc had never experienced something quite like this before. Layla, his only real relationship before you, had shown concern and love and all that came with it, but he always got the feeling they both knew it was something temporary, that it wasn’t something that was meant to last. With you…He found himself wanting a future with you. “I’m fine. We all are,” he said, lifting your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “Just…anxious, I guess. I never spoke on camera before. The only time we’d done something like this, it had been Jake fronting the entire time.”

“It’s going to be alright. Karen’s really good at making this feel more like a conversation than an interview. I always forget that I’m even on camera when I’m with her,” you said. “And, if the nerves become too much, it’s perfectly okay to ask for a break.”

“I know. Thank you, dove,” he said. 

Marc’s attention was pulled away from you as he heard the click-clack of a pair of heels approaching. He looked over at Karen as she walked up you and him. She wore a smile on her face as she asked, “We’re almost done setting up if you’re ready to get started.”

Marc glanced at you, then looked back to Karen, and said, “We’re ready.”

“Great! Feel free to go ahead and take a seat, and we’ll begin in just a few moments.”

Marc nodded, squeezing your hand as the two of you walked over to the chairs. You had opted to have a loveseat for you and Marc, while Karen sat in a matching armchair across from the two of you. You’d said something about it showing how you and the system were considered a unit. Separate chairs indicate you’re too separated from them, like there’s a wedge between you and them. Marc wasn’t sure how true that was, but figured you knew more about the vultures of the media and the gossiping geese than he did. You sank into the plush seat, and he sat beside you. He hadn’t really intended to, but he sat so close, his leg rubbed against yours, you almost instinctually nestling next to him. 

“You made a good choice with the seats, dove,” Marc whispered to you, his nose brushing against the shell of your ear. 

You smiled so wide you showed off your pretty teeth, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thank you, my love. Can I tell you a secret?”

Marc raised a brow. “Of course.”

“I secretly picked this seating arrangement because I wanted to sit close to you,” you whispered back.

Marc’s face heated up. Fuck. Could he admit that this was all he ever wanted? To feel wanted? To know that someone loved him, cared for him, so much that they would so such sweet things? That they wanted to make him feel good, not hurt him? “I love you, dove. I love you so much.”

“I love you, my love.”

“God, you too are so sweet, it’s going to give me a cavity,” Karen said. She took her seat in the armchair. “We’re ready to begin.”

You nodded and indicated for Karen to continue. 

Her face shifted slightly, taking on the more professional look associated with her journalistic skills. Her voice held the same air of professionalism as she said, “Good morning. I am here today with Her Majesty, Queen Y/N and her fiancés, Marc, Steven, and Jake. Marc is currently the one fronting. How are you all today?”

Marc watched as you smiled and said, “We’re doing well, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, as well,” Karen said. “First, I would like to congratulate you on acceding to the throne. The Crown suits you well, I think.”

You let out a laugh. It sounded almost melodic. “I’m not sure how true that is now. I’m still adjusting to the position. It’s already a steep learning curve, but when you add in everything that’s happened…Well, I’m sure you can imagine the difficulties.”

“She’s being modest,” Marc said, squeezing your hand. “Dove’s being doing better than I ever could have imagined.”

“I’m sure it helps that she has such an amazing support system,” Karen said. “I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that watching the system and her interact…It seems like a fairy tale come true.”

“I’m not too sure you can say you speak for everyone,” you corrected. “As with the case with most things people don’t understand, harsh judgment often follows. But I know my fiancés for who they are, and no matter what the naysayers try to accuse them of, I know it’s not true.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Karen said. “I know I, along with others, have wondered how much truth was spoken in the first interview you gave when announcing your engagement, especially when we learned of how controlling the former King had been. So, how much was fact and how much was fiction?”

“Well, the how-we-met was true, at least as far as Jake and Dove meeting,” Marc said. “Steven had met Dove years earlier, when we were kids. I hadn’t met her formally until that morning.”

“It was an arranged marriage,” you explained. “Benjamin had said he had done it so that my rebellious nature could be reigned in. I know now that he intended to pin them for my death had he been successful. In some ways, I suppose he was successful in making them to be the villain, because I’ve seen far too many so-called journalist demonize something that they had no control over, something that doesn’t make them anymore villainous than you or I.”

“Dove…” Marc said. He appreciated how defensive you were over the system. He loved that you would knock down anyone who tried to hurt them. But he worried that people might still misconstrue your words. 

“In other ways, Benjamin arranging this marriage was his fatal flaw. He might actually have been successful had he not introduced us. Because of them, his plans were thwarted at every turn.” you continued. You looked at Marc. Behind him, Marc could hear one of the camera operators positioning the camera so it got a clear shot of your face as you looked at him with pure adoration in your eyes. “Even though I know never he never meant to, Benjamin provided me with something that had been lacking in my life ever since my mother’s passing: love. And for that, I couldn’t be more grateful.”

Your neck cracked as you rolled your head from shoulder to shoulder, trying in vain to relieve some of the tension as you sat in front of your vanity. You had been doing that a lot lately. Steven understood. A life like this was not something you had thought you would ever had. You never planned to live under the weight of the Crown. Where Kieran was primped and preened to be King, you were never paid the same courtesy. Why would you have been? Benjamin had been planning to keep you out of the way for a long, long time. You went one from stressful situation straight into another straight into another, all without a moment of reprieve. 

Steven walked up behind you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. Slowly, he started to work out the knots, relishing in the soft moan you let out. He loved your sweet noises. He loved knowing he was responsible for them even more. He loved the way you leaned into his touch, perhaps, most of all. 

“You and Marc did well in the interview, don’t you think? I do,” he said, leaning down, brushing a kiss on the top of your head. “I think it will turn out well.”

“There will still be naysayers,” you said. “But I’m happy that we’ve said our piece.”

Steven hummed, focusing on a particularly tight knot in your shoulders. As he worked it out, he said, “I liked the part where you talked about our future wedding.”

Your skin warmed under his fingers. “You did? I was worried I stepped too far.”

“How could you have? We all talked about having a private ceremony when we’re ready. We’re all in agreement, yeah? Think it’s only fair we share that with the public, make it clear that no matter what they think, we’re by your side.”

You turned around, a smile on your face. “I’m glad you think that, my love.” You stood up, walking around your chair so you stood in front of him, reaching up, cupping his face in your hands. You met him halfway in a kiss, moaning at the contact. “I love you so much.”

Steven’s arms wrapped around your waist. He loved the feeling of your body against his. He loved knowing that you wanted to be as close as possible to him. He felt the same way. “I love you most.”

“Impossible,” you mumbled against his lips. “Lemme show you just how much I love you, yeah?”

Steven’s pants tightened. “Fuck. Please, dove. Please show me.”

He watched as you sank to your knees, a soft gasp escaping his mouth as you freed him from his pants, giving his length a few pumps. He reached down, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pushed you towards his cock, urging you to take him in your mouth. 

Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling as you looked up at him through your lashes. His grip on your hair tightened. Fuck, fuck, fuuuck. Was there anything better than this? Steven wasn’t sure there was. You let out a small gurgle as you took more of him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. 

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he gasped. You let out a moan, the sound slightly muffled. Fuck. “So fucking perfect, dove. God, you make me feel so good.”

Our dove looks so pretty on her knees, doesn’t she?, Jake mused. 

Shh, let Steven have his moment, Marc chided.

Steven felt his balls tighten and, though he wished to see you swallow his cum, that wasn’t how he wished for this to go. He gave a gentle tug on your hair, pulling you away. A trail of spittle connected his cock to your mouth as you looked up at him. “Wanna cum inside you the first time we do this. That okay, dove?”

You smiled, licking your lips. “Of course that’s okay, my love.”

He surged forward, kissing you hard and fast. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Could this be any more perfect? 

Yours and his clothes disappeared in a flurry as the two of you stumbled over to the bed, too attached to even consider parting might make the process easier. Steven lifted you onto the bed, moaning as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you.

“You ready, dove?” Steven asked, reaching between your legs, swirling his finger over your clit, collecting your slick as he did so. “Mm, I think you are!”

“Please fuck me, Steven,” you said, pulling him back down to kiss. “Need to feel you, need you to fill me up.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. Steven guided his cock into you, slowly filling you up. You groaned at the feeling, nails digging into his skin. God. Your pussy was practically choking him. You were so tight he could barely move.

“You feel so good, dove,” Steven mumbled against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses as he thrusted his hips. You whined at the feeling. Your back arched against him. “Wanna stay like this forever. Wanna stay in your forever.”

You and me both, Marc said.

Hey! How come you can comment but I can’t?!, Jake asked. 

“Shut up,” Steven mumbled. 

“Huh?”

Shit. He didn’t mean to speak out loud. “Not you. The boys are bickering.”

You let out a laugh. You reached for his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls. Guiding his face back to yours, you kissed him as hard as you could. “Jealous boys, aren’t they?” you asked between kisses. “Hm? They wish they were in your position, don’t they?”

Yes!, they said at the same time. 

“They’re not allowed to be in my position,” Steven said. His thrusts grew more erratic. “They’ve had their turns. This one is mine. Mine. I’m not sharing.”

“Mm, maybe you’re the jealous boy. I have been neglecting you, haven’t I? Not treating you as well as I treat the others? C’mon, my love, let me make it up to you. Take what’s yours.”

“Say. Say you’re mine,” Steven nearly growled. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to say it.”

You opened your mouth, but all the escaped was a moan so loud Steven was half convinced the entire palace could hear it. Or, at least, any staff working in the wing. Your pussy spasmed around him as you practically screamed, “I’m yours, Steven! All yours!”

Steven came with a gasp, nearly collapsing on top of you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was damn near addicted to you. He could do this, hear those words, hear those noises, all day every day if you gave him the chance. 

“I love you, dove,” Steven whispered.

You brushed his curls away from his face. “And I love you, my love.”

Steven leaned down, kissed the tip of your nose. “…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

“Would you be up for another round, dove?” Steven asked, an uncharacteristic smirk crossing his face. “Think I recall once saying I wanted you to ride me.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you laughed, swatting at his chest. But you gave no protest as he rolled the two of you over so he was on the bottom and you were on top. 

“Is that a no then?”

“It’s a shut-up-so-I-can-fuck-you-stupid.”

A stack of job applications nearly a mile high sat on your desk. You should’ve anticipated that countless people would be vying for a spot to work closely with the Queen. Worse, you should’ve expected that many of those applicants would be well-qualified enough for their applications to wind up on your desk. As you stared at the leaning tower of files, you found yourself wishing you hadn’t opted for a hands-on approach to hiring your secretary. 

“All of these people are qualified?” you asked, picking a file from the top and flipping it open. Claire Weiss. You set the file to the side, not trusting the look in her eyes. 

“Qualified, sure,” Yelena said. “Not all…good. Layla and I to weed out the applications with obvious complications. You know, the sort of things that HR isn’t going to be able to catch.”

“You mean the sort of things that aren’t ever reported?”

“You catch on well,” Yelena said. “Some of the bad eggs might have slipped through the cracks. You should have seen the stack of files HR gave us.”

You hummed as you picked up another file and flipped it open. Phil Coulson. You glanced through his qualifications. With the amount of military experience under his belt, you thought him better suited for being a member of your security detail than a secretary. Still, with everything that’s happened, it wouldn’t hurt if everyone close to you had some degree of knowledge of self-defense. You set in a new pile. 

“When you get the stack narrowed down, we’ll run a more thorough background check,” Layla said. “You still want to sit for the interviews, right?” When you nodded, she continued, “While that’s not public knowledge, we shouldn’t trust that it won’t get out. Even the most secure palace still has its leaks.”

Another file, another name. Daisy Johnson. More of a track record in hacking, but…Well, that could have its uses. At least it meant that she would know her way around a computer, which was a definite plus. These days, it seemed harder and harder to find someone who could figure out how to bold text in a Word Document, much less do anything slightly more complicated. You added Daisy Johnson to the same pile as Phil Coulson. 

“Is that a suggestion I be mindful of what I say around who?” you asked. 

“Well, I can’t order the Queen.”

You looked up at Layla, taking in her teasing look. “You give yourself too little credit. If you told me to jump, I would do it without a second thought.”

“I thought you were supposed to ask how high?” Yelena said. She looked between you and Layla. “You know…When I say jump, you say how high? Isn’t that how it goes?”

“Yes, that’s how it goes,” you confirmed.

“Haha, yes! I was right!” Yelena cheered. 

A hint of a smile crossed your face. You appreciated her enthusiasm over something so simple. It made this job easier. It helped you see the lighter things in life. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on the thought, for there was a knock at the door. Layla opened it, revealing Jarvis, the head butler. He held a silver platter, a single envelope resting on it. Layla picked up the envelope, thanking him, before turning to you. 

“Were you expecting a letter?” she asked. 

You shook your head. “Nothing comes to mind, no.” You held your hand out. “Let me see that.”

Layla passed it to you. It was a simple envelope, something that could be picked up at an office supply store. There was no stamp. Someone must have dropped it in the royal mailbox personally. That was the only way it could arrive to you without going through the postal service. There was nothing identifiable on the envelope, only a printed out label that read “Her Majesty, the Queen”.

You glanced at Layla and Yelena as you picked up a letter opener, slicing through the envelope. You pulled out the paper, unfolding it carefully. It was a piece of white, copy paper adorned with, in the most cliché way possible, an assortment of cutout letters from a magazine and a clipping of you with your eyes marked out with a bright red Sharpie. It read:

A whore has no place on the throne. Watch your back. Long live the King.

You swallowed hard as you looked up at Layla and Yelena. “It seems the threats are becoming a lot more real if they’ve actually managed to get this to me.”

Yelena took the letter from your hands. “It’s the same as the ones we’ve intercepted. You’d do well to hire a couple more personal bodyguards.”

“Is it that serious?”

“If they’ve managed to get this into the palace…I’d take any threat made towards you with the utmost care.”

Great. This was exactly what you needed. 

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (22) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you escape death and you embrace love. 

word count: 3,553

warnings?: fluff, an assassination attempt is thwarted, you get married, pet name (dove), not proofread

“Now, I know that most of your energy is being focused on planning the coronation, but I have to ask: When can we expect the wedding?” Karen asked. 

Marc looked at you, a rare smile taking over his face. “We haven’t nailed anything down quite yet.”

“We’re considering a private ceremony with just close friends and family. If we do that, we’ll probably have that ceremony before the coronation,” you said. “After the coronation, we’ll have a larger, more public ceremony.”

Christine Everhart’s face filled the screen as she rolled her eyes, pretending to gag. “Can you believe that? He’s trying to deprive us of the Queen’s wedding! I just know it was his idea.”

Chess Roberts nodded in agreement. “The Queen always loved the public engagements. There’s no way that she would have agreed to a private ceremony unless he forced it on her.”

“I bet he was the one who made her do the interview anyways. He’s just trying to save face, because the whole kingdom sees him for the lia—”

The TV screen suddenly turned black. You looked over your shoulder, seeing Marc hold the remote. His face was tinted red, his jaw clenched. You stood up, bundling your robe closer to your body, retying the knot that had loosened when you sat. Marc’s breathing steadied as you crossed the room over to him.

You raised your hand, caressing his face. His skin was warm. Marc leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “They don’t know what they’re saying. They’re paid to gossip and lie and misconstrue the truth so that people tune in and listen to their bullshit. There’s a reason they cut off the interview right before I said that the private ceremony was my idea. It doesn’t fit into the false reality they’re trying to construct.”

“I wish people could only watch the interview in full,” Marc muttered. “I hate when little clips get taken out of context.”

“It was a risk we both knew of,” you said. “If it means anything, I saw a lot more good than I did bad.”

Karen’s interview with you and Marc went live earlier that morning. As you had expected, a lot of people had a lot of opinions. Some good, some bad, a whole lot right in between. You tried to focus more on the good, though. It did you no good to look at the naysayers. They wouldn’t change your opinion, your feelings. You loved your fianc��s. The kingdom didn’t need to understand that. The kingdom didn’t get to dictate that. 

“Why don’t we go back to wedding planning, hm?” you asked. “I saw a tux in a magazine that I thought you boys would look nice in. I’m not too sure on the fabric, if it’s something you all would feel comfortable in, but I have some pull with the designer. If it isn’t what you like, I could ask him to change it a little. But we need to make the decision today so I can put in a rush order so it’s ready for the ceremony.”

Marc’s mouth lifted at the corners. “You’re too sweet, dove. The world doesn’t deserve you.”

“They don’t deserve you, either, my love.”

You gave Marc a kiss before slipping away to grab the binders and magazines you had been compiling. For the most part, everything for the wedding had been picked out and was nearly ready for the ceremony. The only things that were missing were your dress and your fiancé’s tuxedo. You hadn’t intended to leave them to the last minute, but…Well, nothing had looked quite right. Nothing looked quite like what you were looking for, even though you weren’t entirely sure what it was you wanted. 

When you returned, Marc was sitting on the sofa, waiting for you. You joined him, taking a seat on his lap, balancing the various binders and magazines on your own lap. 

“Looks like we got a lot to go through,” Marc teased. 

“Oh, hush!” you said, giving his shoulder a gentle push. “I just wanted to have options. I want the wedding to be something we all love.”

“Honestly, dove, I don’t care what we pick out as long as I get to call you my wife by the end of the day.” Marc paused, then huffed out a laugh. “Jake agrees, but adds that he also expects a weeklong sex extravaganza afterwards.”

You laughed so hard you snorted. “Perhaps I shouldn’t leave Jake in charge of packing for the honeymoon like I had been planning to.”

“Only if you want to have no clothes and an assortment of toys,” Marc said. 

“Well, now that doesn’t like such a horrible idea so long as he forgets all of your clothes, too.”

Marc’s face tinted pink. He looked away, busying himself by looking at one of the binders you’d brought out. He flipped to a page and paused. He lifted a hand, running a finger along the dress pictured. “…Are you still looking for a dress, dove?”

“I am.”

“What about this one?”

He turned the binder so it faced you. You didn’t understand it, but a feeling washed over you, a feeling you couldn’t quite identify. But it made tears prick at your eyes, your heart swell. 

“It’s perfect. It’s…It’s everything I could want in a dress,” you said. 

Marc smiled. “You would look beautiful in it, too. Truly fit for a Queen.”

You took the binder and held it closer to you so you could get a better look. You didn’t really think about what you were saying, but before you could stop yourself, you said, “I wish my mother wish could have met you. She would have loved all of you.” 

Marc, who had an arm wrapped around you, reached and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “She’d be proud of you, dove. She’d happy to see you do things that make you happy.”

“I wish she could have been here for this,” you said, the tears starting to overwhelm you. “When I was little and imagined of the day I would marry, I always thought she would be there. Then when she was gone…I didn’t consider what it would feel like for her to not be there. Not until now, really, to be honest.”

Marc was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, “This is more of the sappy sort of thing you’d hear from Steven, but…She will be there, because she lives in you. You keep her spirit alive, dove. Her kindness, her love…It shines through you.”

Your mouth quirked up in a smile. “God, she really would have loved you.”

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, reached down to smooth out the wrinkles in your black dress pants, before grabbing your blazer and putting it over your silky black top. You stared at the mirror, trying to decide if this was the best outfit to wear. Part of you, if you were being honest, wanted to spit in the face of Benjamin’s funeral. (And perhaps you might, when no one was looking.) But part of you knew that this was the last step to you achieving your peace. That if you just got through the day, drowned out the eulogies, and said goodbye to Benjamin for the final time…Well, you might just be alright. So you grit your teeth, slipped your feet into a pair of black pumps, and met Jake in the hallway. 

Jake gave you a gentle smile when he saw you. He reached out his hand, taking your, rubbing his thumb on the top of your hand. “Hey, dove. You look beautiful.”

“You look quite handsome yourself, my love,” you said, admiring his black dress suit. “Media’s going to have a field day with your outfit.”

“Let them. They all already know who wears the pants in this relationship,” Jake teased. He gave you a quick wink, before his smile turned into a smirk. 

“Naughty!” you laughed. “C’mon. We’re already about to be fashionably late.”

“Well, we have to make sure we tick off all the boxes that ensures people don’t focus on the actual funeral,” Jake said. “I think we’re doing a mighty fine job, if you ask me.”

“The next step is to publicly humiliate one of us.”

“I’ll take that one,” Jake said. “I already got the perfect fall planned.”

“Does it end with you accidentally flashing everyone? Because I think that would be a real treat for the whole kingdom.”

Jake let out a full belly laugh. “Now that would the icing on top, wouldn’t it?”

The happiness you felt with Jake, joking and teasing each other, soon wore off as the two of you got to the car, made your way towards the funeral. It was being held in an old cathedral in the center of the capitol. Worship services hadn’t occurred there for nearly half a century. Instead, the cathedral became more of a historical site, offering tours to the public and, on occasion, serving as the venue for royal weddings and funerals. Part of you wanted to spit in the face of traditions and dump Benjamin’s body in an unmarked grave. But, the larger part of you knew that this funeral was the perfect opportunity to say goodbye to your life as you knew it. 

And what a way to do it. When you and Jake arrived at the cathedral, a sizable crowd had gathered. You wondered how many were there to pay their respects versus how many were there just because it was a royal event. Before you got out of the car, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Jake took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. 

“Ready, dove?”

“Ready, my love.”

Jake got out of the car first, then you followed. You avoided looking at the flashing cameras, keeping your gaze focused on the doors. Just one step, then another. Soon enough, you’ll be inside the doors. One step. One step. One step. The doors opened as you approached. The doormen sank into a bow as you ascended the steps. You offered them a smile as they rose before you passed through the threshold. 

You caught Layla’s eye as you made your way to your seat. Her head nodded once, twice, three times. The plan was a go. Whoever it was that planned to kill you was in the building. Well, that was certainly reassuring. 

Once you took your seat, everything seemed to fade. It was hard to focus on any one thing. You trusted your team to make sure everything went to plan, but you couldn’t stop wondering if you had missed something. It was irrational, of course. Yelena had been thorough in her investigation. There was no chance she would have forgotten something. 

“Her Majesty, the Queen will now come to share a few words.”

Your head lifted. Shoot. You had forgotten about this part in your anxieties about the day. Jake gave your hand a squeeze, whispered to you that you would do well. You rose from your seat, walked up to the podium. You passed by Benjamin’s casket on the way. It was closed—that was the tradition for royal burials, to have the funeral be closed casket. But it was especially needed now. Yelena had conferred with the mortician, gotten pictures of his corpse. You’d seen enough to know it wasn’t a good idea to have his casket open. 

You reached the podium, staring out at the crowd. The cathedral was filled with members of Parliaments, foreign dignitaries, and the like. A few approved journalists were in the front row. You already knew they would lose their minds at what you had to say.

“Thank you all for coming today,” you said. You examined the crowd, took a deep breath, and continued. “People say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but no one ever stopped Benjamin when he spoke ill of his family, of his duties, of his responsibilities. His life was a stain on this family. I can’t say that I will miss him now that he’s gone. I don’t know if anyone really will. Benjamin, like most royals, thrived on a pristine public image. People who loved him only loved that image. They do not know the horror he was behind closed doors. Even I never realized how awful it was until I was free from him.”

You looked over at the casket. You swallowed hard. “Part of me feels like I should miss him. You know, the part of me that hears people talk about family is family, that you should love them even when they hurt you. But if there’s anything I’ve learned in recent months, it’s that the family you find can sometimes love you more than the family you were born to. I won’t miss Benjamin. I just won’t. Not when he’s robbed me of my peace for so many years. But now…Now, I’ll finally have my peace.”

“A shame it won’t last long.”

You felt the cool metal of the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of your skull. You felt the hot breath of the man behind you, the weight of his arm around your neck as he held you in a chokehold. You heard the gasps, the screams, the shouts. You saw Jake jump from his seat, shouting at the man behind you. You saw the journalists panicking, caught between concern for their safety and whether they should be focused on getting the story. You watched as Layla raised her radio to her mouth, whispering something to the other guards. 

“No one will ever rob me of my peace again. I won’t let them.”

“You don’t have a choice, Your Highness,” he said, practically spat. 

Your lip curled. You didn’t care for formalities. You never really did. But if the man planned to kill you, he could at least refer to you correctly. “It’s Your Majesty. The King you served is dead, at your own hands.”

“We had nothing to do with that.”

“Just because you say it, doesn’t make it true.”

A swarm of armed Moon Knights descended, surrounding you and the man. Guns were pointed in your direction, aimed at the man behind you. Frenchie stood in front of the Moon Knights, his own gun pointed at the man. 

“Drop your weapon before anyone gets hurt,” Frenchie said. 

“Well, that’s just the point, isn’t it? Why would I stop?”

You heard the click of the man’s weapon as he released the safety. You flinched. Frenchie fired his weapon. The weight on you dropped. You surged forward, was caught in Frenchie’s arms. He passed you to Jake, who had hurried to where you once stood. You refused to look back. You let Jake usher you away. As you were led out the cathedral, you saw the guards apprehending several people. Accomplices, perhaps? You were amazed by the amount of people who had come to kill you. But it was over now. Well, for the most part anyways. 

There was still much to do. Statements would be given to the police. You would need Scott and Yelena’s help in drafting a public statement, too. You would probably take the next few days off, if you could. But as you looked up at Jake, you knew that it would be okay. 

You would finally have your peace. 

The days leading up to the wedding all blurred together. In between wedding preparations and official royal duties, you were dealing with the fallout of your assassination attempt at Benjamin’s funeral. There was a lot on your plate. If you were honest, it felt easy to collapse under the weight of it all. But knowing that you would soon be married to the loves of your life? It made it all worth it. 

“You look beautiful, dove,” Layla said, leaning against the wall as your stylist put the finishing touches on your makeup. 

You fought the urge to smile as the stylist swiped lipstick across your lips. When the stylist capped the tube, you said, “You think so? I worried the dress might be a bit much for a private ceremony.”

“No such thing as too much,” Layla said. She walked over to you, took your hands in hers. “You could never be too much, dove. The boys certainly could never think so. You could walk out there wearing a burlap sack or a dress made entirely from diamonds and they would still think you were the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen.”

Your face grew warm. “You think so?”

“I know so. I mean, look at yourself, dove. You’re stunning.”

You looked in the mirror, took in your appearance. Your hair was loose, cascading long your back. The stylist had placed a star headpiece on you, the star falling down your hair. It matched well with your dress. It was a beautiful shimmery white with moon and star appliqués, the fabric fading into shimmering jewels as it came passed your chest. A long train-like cape fell passed your shoulders, draping around you. You felt beautiful. 

“Is it time?”

“Each to get out there, huh?” Layla teased. She glanced at her watch. “By the time we get to the gardens, it’ll be close to time to start.”

“Then we shall go.”

Your heart thumped in your chest as you descended the stairs. Your palms felt sweaty. You fought the urge to chew on your lip and inadvertently ruin your makeup. (You had plenty of time to do that when you smothered your soon-to-be husbands with kisses.) You couldn’t believe this day was finally here. You couldn’t believe you were marrying the loves of your life. 

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, Yelena was waiting for you. 

“You look beautiful,” Yelena said as you came to stop in front of her. “Would look more beautiful if your dress had pockets, but beautiful nonetheless.”

You let out a laugh. “I’ll wear a dress with pockets for the public ceremony.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for something in my entire life.”

Yelena smiled slightly before leading you and Layla out to the gardens. The three of you stopped just beyond the sights of all the guests. You could see Steven near the start of the aisle.  Frenchie stood with him, seemingly giving Steven a pep talk. Though you didn’t have the best look of him, you couldn’t deny how handsome he looked in the grey dress suit you found for him.

“Did you get to talk to any of them earlier?” you asked Yelena. You knew Marc had been the most nervous for this. He still wasn’t accustomed to public displays of affection. The idea of professing his love in front of so many people scared him, even if he didn’t say anything to you. 

“Marc is doing fine,” Yelena said. “He was fronting when the stylist was getting them ready. Steven was too antsy to sit still, and Jake kept wanting to sneak off to see you. But they’re all excited. They’re all anxious to see you.”

“Good, good,” you said. “You should go take your seat. Layla and I can handle it from here.”

Yelena nodded before walking over to her seat, pausing for a few seconds to say hello to Steven. As you waited for the ceremony to begin, you looked over at Layla. You still couldn’t believe she had agreed to walk you down the aisle. Honestly, you had felt a bit silly asking. You had thought, perhaps, you should’ve just asked Kieran, thought for a fleeting moment that Layla might laugh in your face and tell you to put the task on the one member of your biological family you had left. But, you still weren’t close enough to Kieran to feel comfortable with him. But Layla…She was family, through and through. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to her. 

“Stop thanking me, dove. You’re practically my sister. Honestly, I would have been offended if you didn’t ask me.”

“Still, it means a lot to me.”

“I know. It means a lot to me, too.”

In the gardens, you could hear the officiant direct everyone to rise. The music began to play. You watched as Frenchie walked Steven down the aisle, watched as Steven stood under the chuppah, waiting for you. Layla squeezed your hand, before walking you down the aisle. 

When Steven saw you, his mouth fell open. You were pretty sure you could see the tears filling his eyes, even though you were too far away to be sure. He held one of his hands over his mouth as you got closer. God, could he be any sweeter? 

“Good luck,” Layla said as she let you go. 

You walked up to Steven, standing in front of the officiant and across from Steven. “You look quite handsome, my love.”

“And you look like a goddess, my dove.” Steven sniffled, reaching up, caressing your face. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Now let’s get married, yeah?”

“Let’s get married.”

And so the officiant began. 

And so your marriage began. 

And so peace felt so much more real. 

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (16) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: things are looking up. 

word count: 3,264

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (m receiving), dove on top, unprotected sex, piv sex, subby!marc, fluff, pet name (dove), not proofread

It had been three days since the hearing adjourned. Though the outcome was obvious given the evidence presented, it nevertheless made Marc nervous that Parliament had not yet come out with the ruling. What if the whole process was just a farce? What if Parliament came back, said sike, pointed their fingers and laughed as you and the entire kingdom realized that you would never get the justice you deserved? Marc felt sick thinking of the possibilities. 

Still, he tried to keep it together. He needed to stay strong. He knew it was eating you alive, and you needed someone to lean on. He couldn’t be that person for you if he was adding to your worry. So, instead, he whispered comforting words you, held you close to his chest, pressed soft kisses to your forehead. He did everything he wished someone would have done for him. 

“How's she holding up?” Layla asked him when you went to take a nap. 

“She’s…like a zombie,” he said. “It kind of feels like she’s just going through the motion of everything, you know? I try to comfort her, but I don’t think anything’s going to help until we find out what Parliament decides.”

“Torres—one of the guards at Parliament—says they’re going to make an announcement soon,” Layla said, flopping onto the couch. She ran her hands over her face. “Apparently they finished convening this morning. Sam’s planning to hold a press conference about it afterwards.”

“Are they gonna tell our Dove first?” 

Layla shrugged. “Torres didn’t seem sure. He said they’re worried about the information getting leaked to the press early.”

Marc couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Seriously? Leaked information? That’s what they were concerned about? Not the fact that a man hellbent on killing his daughter was still sitting on the throne, posing a very real danger to her. “That's fucking bullshit.”

“You know how politicians are. They only care about saving their own skin, no one else’s.”

“Sometimes I wish we could just take things into our own hands—”

You and me both, Steven said. Marc wasn’t facing any reflective surface at the moment, so he couldn’t see Steven. However, Marc imagined he was shaking like a chihuahua. While all three of them were particularly protective of you, Steven was the one who had the most obvious reactions to threats made against you. Steven always had been the one who wore his heart on his sleeve. 

“—but I don’t want to fuck things up for Dove. She deserves to have her peace. I would never forgive myself if I ruined that for her.”

I think we could get away with it, Jake said.

Marc twisted his head around, locking eyes with Jake’s reflection in the window. He narrowed his eyes at Jake and shook his head.

“Are they suggesting you fight anyways?” Layla asked. When Marc nodded, she let out a snort. “You know, when I learned Benjamin arranged an engagement between you and Dove, I knew that you all would protect her.”

Marc raised a brow. “Even with my dislike of the monarchy?”

“You’re a good man, Marc. Even if you despised the monarchy, even if you never loved Dove, you would never do anything that would put her in harm’s way. You’re a good man.”

“Perhaps the best man.”

Marc and Layla twisted their heads to look at you as you padded into the room. You took a seat next to Marc, throwing your legs over his lap, your back resting against the armrest of the couch. Marc’s hands came to rest on your legs, rubbing them up and down. 

“Weren’t you going to take a nap, dove?” Marc asked, ignoring the way his heart stuttered at your proclamation. 

“Couldn’t rest. I’m too nervous to even think about relaxing,” you said. You reached out, placed your hand on top of his. “I meant what I said, Marc. You, and Jake, and Steven, are perhaps the best men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And I’ve met a lot of people, good and bad alike.”

Marc’s voice was thick as he struggled to keep his emotions under control, saying, “You think too highly of me, dove. If you knew what I’ve done…I don’t know if you would see me as any better than Benjamin.”

“Your bad doesn’t negate your good, Marc,” you said. You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. “We’ve all done bad things. No one has only made good decision, only done good things. It’s what you do when you’ve done the bad things that matter. And the fact that you feel so awful about it, that you regret it so badly, shows me how different you are compared to Benjamin. He enjoys hurting people. He takes pleasure in it. What you feel? Also those conflicting feelings? He’s never felt that. That’s what makes you different, and that’s what makes you a good man.”

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” Marc said. 

“One day, I hope you do.”

Ping!

Layla grabbed her phone, reading a notification. She set her phone to the side, leaning forward, and grabbed the remote sitting on the coffee table. She flipped on the TV and punched the numbers for the channel she was seeking. 

“What’s happening?” you asked. “Did Sam say something?”

“Just to put on the news,” Layla said. 

You turned your attention to the television, your breath catching in your throat. The reporter was outside of the palace. You could see in the background various other reporters from other news stations. Further in the background, you could see the police entering the palace. Could they be…? 

“In the days following the hearing to remove King Benjamin from the throne,” the reporter was saying, “the public has been kept in the dark as Parliament made its final decision on whether he shall remain king or if his daughter, Princess Y/N, would take her rightful place on the throne. However, just minutes ago, we finally got our answer.”

Layla got up from her seat, walking over to stand by you. She placed her hand on your shoulder. Marc squeezed your hand. You squeezed back, hard. Why couldn’t they just get to the point? Why did they have to be so mysterious? Why couldn’t they just be blunt? 

“Our princess will now officially become our Queen Dove,” the reporter said. “The now former king will be removed from the throne. Reports from Parliament suggest that he will now be charged for his attempts on the Queen’s life.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “It’s over?”

The police finally emerged from the palace, Benjamin walking between them, his hands cuffed. He stumbled over his feet as one of the officers gave him a slight push. As he walked by, his eyes caught the camera. His eyes narrowed. It felt like he was glaring directly at you. But, for once, it didn’t strike fear into your heart. 

“It’s over, dove,” Layla said. 

“You’re free,” Marc finished. 

It felt strange. Coming back to the palace after being away for so long, you mean. You had been gone for so long, you almost thought you would never come back. You thought that you would never get to see the portrait of your mother that hung in your wing again. You thought you would never get to sneak down to the kitchens and talk to the head chef as she prepared the menu for the week. You thought you would never get to wander through the gardens and pretend that you were living in a dramatic music video where life was good and you were loved. You thought you would never get to experience the wonderful parts of the palace again.

Now, you stood, hand-in-hand with Marc, looking at the staff that gathered in the main entrance. They didn’t hide their emotions. Perhaps they didn’t want to. Perhaps they never had been conditioned to hide them. (And, oh, what a painful thought that was. What was it like to never be chastised for being human?) It was almost unnerving, seeing so many of them smile at you. The staff had always been kind to you before. But, still, you had never seen them all together at once. You had never seen so many people happy to see you at once. 

Pearl, the housekeeper, a kind woman who was the same age as your mother would be if she was still alive, stepped forward. She walked up to you and Marc, stopping a few short feet in front of you. She sank into a low curtsy. “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

“There’s no need for formalities, Pearl,” you said. She rose back to her full height. “It’s…It’s good to be home.”

“We’ve been clearing out Benjamin’s affects after he was arrested,” she said. “Would you like your things moved into suite?”

“I would rather his suite be boarded up and forgotten,” you said. “But…is it possible to be moved to the north wing? I always liked the view of the gardens.”

“It’s also much closer to the library. An excellent choice, Your…Y/N,” Pearl said. “We’ll begin immediately.”

“Actually…Take the night off,” you said. You looked at the rest of the staff. “All of you, take the night off. I think we’ve all earned a moment to relax.”

“If I may—” Marc started. 

You looked at him, your head tilting to the side. “Yes?”

“I…know it won’t be the exact same, and I know it won’t make up for the trauma of it all, but I was thinking perhaps we could do a redo of your birthday ball? I was originally thinking just us and Layla if she wished, but…A night of fun might be nice for everyone.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. “That’s so thoughtful. I love that idea.” You looked back at the staff, and said, “If everyone would like to gather in the ballroom, our makeshift ball will begin shortly. Of course, if you would take the night off and return to your homes, by all means, go ahead. There will be no hard feelings.”

“Do you need me to get you anything, Your…Y/N?” Pearl asked. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not making you work when you’re off the clock!” you said. “Marc, Layla, and I can handle it.”

You felt almost like a little kid as you grabbed Marc and Layla’s hands, dragging them to the ballroom. Perhaps it was because this was something that reminded you of your childhood. When you were younger, when your mother was still alive, she would take you to the ballroom and spin ‘round and ‘round and ‘round. She would tell you that one day, you would meet your prince charming, and he would sweep you off your feet. With him, you would feel like you were flying. You remembered asking her if she felt that way with your father. You remembered her laughing, petting your hair, and telling you that, sometimes, marriage is not for love at all. But, if she had anything to do with it, you would only marry a man who loved you as freely and easily as he breathed. As you got older, after you lost her, you thought her words were a fairytale. 

Now, as Marc set up the stereo system and as you plugged in your phone, set to play the soundtrack from Bridgerton (what? it was an incredible show! you most admired Anthony and Kate’s relationship), you realized that the fairytale was far closer to reality than you once believed. 

The music filled the air, the orchestral cover of Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams sending everyone dancing. Some did a traditional waltz. Others swayed back and forth, one partner’s arms wrapped around the other’s waist, the other’s hands resting on the one’s shoulders. Layla had taken to finding those who were standing off the side, encouraging them to join the dancing. 

You were pulled from your thoughts and into Marc’s chest. He held one of your hands, his other hand resting on your waist. You placed your free hand on his shoulder. He spun you ‘round and ‘round and ‘round the dance floor. You couldn’t stop the laughter from building in your chest, easily falling out and echoing throughout the room. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so…light. 

Perhaps your mother had been right all along. 

Marc held you close against him, his heading dipping, his lips brushing against your the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispered. 

Your heart skipped a beat. He said it. And he meant it. You could practically feel the emotion reverberating off of him. You leaned in as he pulled back, taking a moment to admire you. When you saw the way he looked at you, you practically melted to the floor. Your lips ghosting over his as you asked, “Bedroom?”

You didn’t have to ask twice. 

It was the first time your fiancés had seen your bedroom. And, though your bedroom was nice and impeccably clean, you felt an inkling of insecurity creep up inside you. Did they think the colors were too childish? Did they think the blankets were too frilly? Were they judging the amount of decorative pillows? An apology was on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed it as Marc took your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his pretty curls. You weren’t quite sure what compelled you to do so, but you found yourself tugging at his hair from the roots. Marc let out a delicious moan. Fuck. You wanted to make him make those pretty sounds all night long. 

“I. Love. You. I. Love. You. I. Love. You,” Marc said, punctuating each word with a kiss. He practically chanted it like an oath, like he was scared that if he didn’t say it enough times, you wouldn’t believe in the sincerity of his words. 

“I know you do, my love,” you said, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw. “I love you so much. You’re so good to me. So, so good for me.”

Marc took a step forward, you took a step back, repeating the steps until your legs hit your bed and the two of your tumbled onto the mattress. Marc landed on top of you, but you were quick to roll with him so that you were the one on top. 

He watched you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape, as you grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. You slipped your bra straps off your shoulders, reached around behind your back and unclasped your bra, tossing it so it joined your shirt. “Fuck, you look beautiful, dove,” he said, reaching up, his calloused hands caressing your soft skin. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m in the lucky one, my love,” you said, leaning down, kissing him softly. “You take such good care of me, makes me wanna take care of you.”

Marc let out a whine, his hands coming to rest on your hips, gripping you tight. You felt him, poking at your thigh, and you pressed another kiss to his lips. 

“Do you want me to take care of you, my love? Want me to treat you as sweetly as you treat me?”

“Please, dove,” Marc breathed out. “Need you, want you, so bad.”

Without a word, you climbed off of him, standing just in front of him. He let out another whine, trying to follow after you, propping himself up on his elbows to see what you were doing. You unbuttoned your pants, tugging them and your panties down your legs, letting them pool on the floor. 

“Your turn, my love,” you said, reaching out, helping Marc pull his shirt over his head. Marc discarded his pants and boxers on his own, climbing further onto the bed. He sank into the pillows, watching you with bated breath as crawled up to join him. You practically drooled as you neared his col, all hard and leaking precum. You took it in your hand, stroking it. You leaned down, lapping at the precum. “So good for me. Want me to suck your cock, hm?”

“Please,” he said. The desperation was clear in his voice. “Please, need you. Only need you.”

“Mm, you beg so pretty,” you practically purred. “I’ll give you anything you want, my love. Anything at all.”

You took his cock in your mouth, suckling at the tip. Marc threw his head back, letting out a loud moan. Pride swelled in your chest. You liked knowing that you could bring Marc this kind of pleasure. He was always wound up, always on guard. After learning his story, you understood why. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to help him unwind. So, knowing that he could feel as free with you as you did with him…It gave you a high like no other. 

Marc’s hand flew to the back of your head, guiding you to take more of his cock in your mouth. You batted at his hand and pulled away. Another whine escaped his mouth. 

“Nuh uh, my love. You take what I give you, okay? I’m taking care of you,” you said. His pretty lips fell into a pout, but he pulled his hand away without a word. “…but you are desperate, aren’t you, hm?”

Marc nodded quickly. “Just want you, just wanna feel good.”

You crawled up his body, straddling him. His cock brushed against your entrance, his hands flying to your hips. You were almost certain your hips would soon wear bruises from his fingertips. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “You only deserve to feel good, my love.”

You reached down, taking his cock in your hand, guiding it between your wet folds. A moan escaped you as you sank down his length. “F-Fuck, you’re so big, feels so good,” you said. You held onto Marc’s shoulders as you rolled your hips. “It’s like you were made for me, yeah?”

“Made for you,” he echoed. “Don’t think I’m gonna last long, dove—”

He certainly wouldn’t. Your cunt clenched down on him, squeezing hard. You picked up your speed, desperate for you both to reach your release. You both needed this, you both deserved this. 

“I know, my love, I know.” You pressed kisses down his neck, nipping at the point where his neck met his shoulder. “Let go, my love. Let for me, yeah? I’m close behind you.”

“F-Fuck, I’m cumming—”

Marc came with a loud moan, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you tight, his hips lifting off the mattress, burying himself further in you. Your release followed, collapsing on his chest, your head spinning as you came down from your high. The two of you remained like that for a long few minutes, Marc’s softening cock still buried in you, you resting on his chest, the two of you catching your breath. 

“I love you,” Marc whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. 

“…and Steven wants me to tell you that he’d like you to ride him like that.”

You laughed so hard you snorted. “Anything for my loves,” you said between giggles. “Anything you want, I’ll give.”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (17) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you take your position as queen.

word count: 4,331

warnings?: fluff, mention of sex trafficking, mention of benjamin, pet name (dove), not proofread

You felt like you were going to throw up. Your stomach was in a constant churn, the food you ate for breakfast not sitting well with you. You had known the process of accession was a rather fast on, at least in terms for officially making you Queen. The actual coronation would take time to happen. The earliest it could happen would be a year. But that was more for show. The actual accession began with the Accession Council and Parliament proclaiming you as Queen. Sam had had that done as soon as Benjamin was removed from the palace. Now, you needed to go sign the proclamation. 

It terrified you to go do it. Really, you knew that it shouldn’t have. All you had to do was go outside, not show your nerves to the throngs of photographers and journalists outside the palace, make it to the Parliament building, wave through another mass of photographers and journalists, sign the proclamation, and be on your merry way. And, yet, there were still a million things that could go wrong. It made your head spin to consider all of the possibilities. 

Perhaps today wasn’t the best day to sport an all-white look. You elected to wear a white, double-breasted blazer and matching dress pants, a simple white blouse beneath your blazer. You fought the urge to bobble in your white pumps. All eyes were on you. If you fell…everyone would see. Worse, your outfit would serve as a stark reminder of the catastrophe. Yet, you tried to remember the feeling you had when you looked at yourself in the mirror. You had, for the first time, truly felt like a Dove. 

And, god, when Steven looked at you? It turned you into a pile of goo on the floor. The way his eyes lit up, his mouth slightly agape as he looked you over. He could barely contain his smile—you could practically hear the smile in his voice—as he said, “Bloody hell, you look stunning, dove!”

Perhaps it was the tiniest bit pathetic to admit, but his words were enough to get you out the door, ready to take on the day and all that it would bring. (After, of course, you kissed him so hard and so senselessly your lipstick smeared across his face.) 

Together, the two of you left your (now shared) bedroom and made your way out of the palace. You passed some of the staff on the way out, pausing long enough to greet them and wish them a good day, until you finally reached the front doors to the palace. You paused as you stared at the doors. The nerves started to eat away at you again. Steven seemed to sense your unease, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You took a deep breath in, out. You repeated again once more, twice more, thrice more. Then—

“I’m ready.”

The doors were opened. You fought the urge to raise your hand to shield your eyes from the blinding flashes of light that erupted from the photographers. Instead, you painted a smile on your face—not too big, so that there wouldn’t be stories about how you reveled in the former King’s failure, but not too small, so that there wouldn’t be stories about how you were vapid and didn’t care about the common folk. As you and Steven walked to the car, you made sure to wave at the crowd. You were surprised to see so many people there who just wanted to catch a glimpse of you. You supposed you’d been away from this life for so long now that you’d forgotten that the Royal Family had so many loyal followers. 

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

Normally, you tried to ignore the shouting. Most of the time, it was just invasive questions from reporters. But, this one caught your interest. It was the shouting of a little girl. You turned your head, nearly gasping when you saw her. 

Could it be? Could it really be her? It had been years. Perhaps your memory was fuzzy? And yet, in your heart, you knew her to be the same girl Jake had stopped from spooking one of the horses in the parade as she ran to you—an incident that would have surely ended in disaster had he not stepped in. She was older, yes, but you could never forget that face. 

You dropped Steven’s hand and knelt in front of the girl. “Hello,” you said to her. 

She beamed at you and held out a flower to you. It was a daisy, and it was missing a few petals, but it was one of the prettiest flowers you had ever seen. “It’s a Daisy, like me,” she said. “That’s my name, I mean. Do you remember me, Your Majesty?”

“Of course I remember the little princess who greeted me at the parade,” you said. You tucked the daisy behind your ear. “You’ve grown so much! Soon, you’re going to look just like a Queen.”

Daisy giggled. “I wanna be just like you, Your Majesty. I wanna be strong, just like you.”

“I’m sure you already are,” you said. You looked up at Steven, who was starting to kneel in front of Daisy, too. “My love, do you remember Daisy? She was at the parade, the first one after my mother passed?”

Steven’s face shifted into Jake’s. He said, “Of course I remember little Daisy.” He gave a teasing look. “I hope you learned to not run in front of horses, little lady.”

“Yes, I learned,” Daisy said. She looked back at you. “Can I tell you a secret, Your Majesty?”

You nodded. She stepped closer to you, one hand raised to shield her mouth as she whispered in your ear, “I hope I meet someone who loves me like they love you.”

You smiled as she stepped back. “I’m sure you’ll meet your Prince Charming someday, Daisy.”

“No, I don’t want a Prince Charming. I want a Moon Knight!” she said. 

You spared a glance at Jake, your smile growing ever so slightly, then looked back at Daisy. “I’m sure you will. It was so nice talking to you again, Daisy. I hope our paths cross again.”

“Bye, Your Majesty!” Daisy said as you started to rise back up to your full height. 

“Goodbye, Daisy. And thank you so much for the flower,” you said. 

Jake rose back up, too, and slipped his hand into yours. You gave a final wave to Daisy, before continuing your walk to the car. Your smile felt a lot more natural now. It didn’t quite feel like you had an expression painted on your face. It felt like…Well, like you had a reason to smile. 

When you reached the car, Jake opened the door for you and you slipped inside. Jake followed behind you, shutting the door as he took his seat. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his own. As the car lurched forward, you scooched closer to Jake, coming to a stop when you were able to comfortably rest your rest on his shoulder. 

Jake gave your hand a squeeze, and said, “I can’t believe we saw her again.”

“I think it’s a sign things are finally are going to be okay,” you said. 

“It does make me think about something,” Jake said. You lifted your head to look at him. “I know you and Steven already talked about it, but…I just wanted to let you know that I’m all in. Whenever you’re ready to get married, to have kids…I’m ready, too. We don’t have to talk about it more right now, but I just wanted you to know.”

You smiled at him, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you looked at him. How did you ever get so lucky? How did you ever manage to have not one, not two, but three incredible men fall in love you? 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “I have a lot going on this week, but we’ll talk more about it soon, okay? As soon as the dust starts to settle, we can focus on what our future looks like.”

Jake nodded as the car came to a stop outside the Parliament building. The door opened. Jake stepped out. He held his hand out for you to take as you stepped out. You gave a smile, focusing on him instead of the bright flashes from the photographers. You continued to hold his hand as the two of you walked up to the entrance. 

Breathe in.

Breath out.

You will be fine.

No one can take this from you. 

No one can hurt you now.

The rest was a blur. Shaking Sam’s hand. Taking a seat at the desk. Posing for a picture with Sam on one side of you, Jake on the other. Picking up the pen. Signing the proclamation. Picking up the proclamation. Posing for another picture with the signed document. Looked at Jake. Forgot about the photographers. Forgot about the journalists. Leaned in. Kissed him. Pulled away. Looked at him with all the love and adoration in your heart and soul. He looked back, just the same. 

That picture made the front page of every major news outlet in the kingdom. 

“Donate the desk to a museum,” you said to Pearl. “The chair, it can go, too. Let the museum decide how to deal with it. The documents can go to the archive, or the library if they’re still necessary.

Pearl nodded, jotting down your requests. “And what desk would you like to use?”

“I’d like an original,” you said. “I’ve been looking into small business owners, local craftsman. I want to support my people where I can. I’ll have a list by the end of the week and we can start contacting from there.”

She raised a brow. “You know I’m not your advisor or your secretary, right?”

It was teasing, and you knew it. But you felt the need to assure her anyways. “I know, and I’m sorry for roping you into this. It’s just…A lot of it is overlapping. I hope to find an advisor and secretary by the end of the week as well.”

“I understand, Your—Y/N,” Pearl said. “I was only teasing.”

“And I wanted you to know that I don’t mean to overwork you,” you said. 

She reached over, grabbed your hand, and squeezed. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at you. “I don’t mind. I, and the rest of the staff, would rather work for you than him. Do you understand? There is nothing you can do that would be worse than the working conditions he put us through.”

“I just worry,” you said. “I don’t want anyone to compare me to him. Sometimes, I think if I don’t make myself and my intentions clear, people will make the parallels.”

“They probably always will. That’s how the people are, you know,” Pearl said. “But I think just as many people would draw parallels between you and your mother.”

You didn’t mind that. People had been drawing parallels between you and Elaine since, perhaps, you were born. Perhaps it was because you were the only daughter. Perhaps it was because no one wanted to compare the “spare” to the King. But, regardless, you’ve spent an entire lifetime of people telling you that you reminded them of your mother, that you looked just like her, that you acted just like her. Those sorts of comments brought you a sort of joy. Your mother was your idol. In a palace that was cold and cruel, she was warm and welcome. You wanted to be just like her. After you lost her, you clung to those comments closer than ever. 

In some ways, you mused, that was why Benjamin and Kieran and Harrow’s comments always stung. You could handle them chastising you. That had been your life for as long as you could remember (though, you had to admit, it was less obvious when you were younger). But when you lost your mother…It felt like they were attacking her, too. Maybe they were. Or, at least, Benjamin and Harrow were. You weren’t too sure about Kieran. (You didn’t know if you would ever be sure about Kieran.) 

“You’ll never know how much that means to me, Pearl,” you said. You glanced at the clock on the wall. That would have to go, too. You fought the urge to say that to Pearl. You knew she understood you wanted everything that could have been considered Benjamin’s gone. Instead, you said, “If you would like to leave early today, you may. You’ve been a tremendous help to me, and I would like for you to enjoy some time for yourself. It’s a beautiful day out.”

Pearl smiled. “Thank you. Are you sure you want me to go? I don’t mind to help. It is my job.”

“As is taking care of yourself,” you said. “Believe me, I know how important that is. Go, you deserve some time off. I know this week hasn’t been easy.”

She sunk into a curtsy. You didn’t comment on it, even though you would have liked to. It was an improvement that she stopped calling you “Your Majesty”. Or, at least, that she could stop herself from finishing the latter half of the phrase. “Thank you again,” she said. “If you do need me, please let me know. I want your transition to be as smooth as possible.”

You bid her farewell. As she left, you took a seat at Benjamin’s desk. It felt…Almost wrong. It was wrong, you supposed. Every part of Benjamin wanted to be seen as big and mighty and great. His desk was no exception. You recalled being younger, sitting on the other side of the desk, cowering as he yelled at you for something or other. You remembered the fear he struck into you. As you got older, you got better at hiding that fear. But it never went away. And it only creeped back up, wrapping its cold hand around your throat, squeezing, as you sat there. You didn’t like sitting there. 

So, you got up, turning toward the large window. In the gardens, you could see Marc and Cleo. Marc liked spending time outside, you realized, and Cleo liked spending time with Marc. She followed him wherever he went, nudging him with her little head, purring lowly as he let her cuddle up against him. You were almost convinced she loved Marc more than she loved Steven. (Of course, you would never say that to your love. You couldn’t stand to look into his sweet, puppy eyes as he pouted at you. You would instantly melt, take back anything that you had said.) 

Knock! Knock!

You turned toward the door, seeing Layla standing in the frame. A smile stretched across your face. You didn’t get to see much of your friend anymore. She was still your bodyguard, of course, but she had been busy with updating protocols and training the other guards. You had to make do with other guards while she was away. A part of you ached every time a different guard was appointed to you. 

“Come in, come in,” you said, waving her into your office. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Perhaps because we’ve lived a decade in just a few weeks,” Layla said. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” you said. “I’m glad you’re here. I need help selecting an advisor, and there is no one’s judgment I trust more than yours.”

Layla laughed. “You flatter me.”

“Well, you told me my fiancés were good men, and look at what amazingly that turned out,” you said. You sat back in Benjamin’s seat. “I don’t know where to start with this process. I just know that I don’t…I don’t think I want anyone who was close to Benjamin being close to me.”

“A wise decision,” Layla said. “Which…I’ll admit, this was Jake’s idea more than my own, but I do agree with him. That’s why I’m here now, to present you with his idea.”

“Oh? Please, go on.”

“Dove, I do believe you recall Ms. Yelena Belova,” Layla said. She stepped out of the door frame, into your office, and the familiar blonde took her place in the frame. 

“I wondered if i would see you again,” you said to Yelena.

Yelena dropped into a curtsy so low, you were sure her knee was touching the ground. “Your Majesty,” she said. 

“You don’t have to be so formal, Yelena,” you said, laughing slightly. She started to rise back up. “I don’t care much for the formalities, and after everything you’ve done, you don’t have to do all that. We’re practically friends.”

“You deserve the formalities after all you’ve been through,” Yelena said. 

“We’ll agree to disagree,” you said. “Layla seemed to suggest Jake wanted you to be my advisor. Is that true?”

Yelena gave a nod. She stepped more into the room, taking a seat across the desk from you. “I was at your hearing. I heard what you had to say about wanting to serve your people. And…Well, Jake had made me a promise that I would have the chance to talk to you about this. I didn’t think he would suggest for me to be your advisor, but…I would love the opportunity.”

You frowned. “Talk about what?”

“Benjamin’s…activities went far beyond conspiracy to kill you,” she said. She paused, then continued, “My sister, Natasha, and I…We were taken when we were young. There’s this group, called the Red Room.”

“I’ve never heard of that group before,” you said. 

“I don’t expect you to have. It’s…a well kept secret among the kingdom’s, the world’s, elite,” Yelena said. “After all, you don’t want everyone to know about an underground sex trafficking ring. Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

You felt the urge to throw up. “…Benjamin was a part of that?”

Yelena nodded. “Like I said, the world’s elite played an active role in that. Natasha and I got out, went our separate ways. She went to a path of politics, I…Well, I’ve been trying to bring down the Red Room.”

“A difficult task to do when you don’t have much at your disposal, I’m guessing,” you said. 

“No, it’s not,” Yelena said. 

“You know, since I’ve returned to the palace, I have been trying to scrub every piece of Benjamin out of here. It hasn’t been easy. I don’t think it ever will be. Not when his corruption runs so deep. I understand why Jake recommended you to be my advisor,” you said. “You know more than I could ever know about what he’s done. If you would like to be my advisor, anything you need is at your disposal. If you need to organize a special taskforce, if you need to launch investigations…Whatever you need, you have the authority to do. It will, of course, go beyond the technical job responsibilities of an advisor, but…If there’s anyone who would be capable of seeing it through, I think it would be you.”

A hint of a smile quirked on Yelena’s face. “Thank you, Your Majesty. It would be my honor to be your advisor.”

“Fantastic,” you said. “If you can, I would love for you to begin right away.”

“Of course.”

“Which, brings me to my next point…Do you know any local furniture makers? I really need a new desk.”

Layla watched you as your stylist put the finishing touches on your makeup. She had been mostly silent ever since she stepped back into the role as your personal bodyguard. You had to admit, it was a bit strange to not hear her comments as you moved about your day. It almost felt like she wasn’t there at all.

“Et voilá!” your stylist said, stepping out of the way so you could look in the mirror. “A look fit for a Queen, don’t you think?”

“A look fit for a Dove,” Layla corrected. 

You looked toward her. That had been the first thing she had said this morning. “Thank you, Layla,” you said. You looked at the stylist. “And thank you. You always manage to top yourself every time you come here.”

“It’s easy when I have such a beautiful canvas to work with,” she said.

You thanked her once more before you bid each other farewell. Once she was gone, it was only you and Layla left in the room. You stood from your seat and walked across the room to where Layla stood. Her face was unreadable. It hurt for her to look at you like that, like you were just anyone. 

“What troubles you?” you asked.

Layla raised a brow. “Do you think something troubles me?”

“You look like you’re a million miles away. You’ve barely spoken to me. When you look at me, there’s nothing behind your eyes. I worry I did something to hurt you.” You took a breath, then continued, “Just because I am Queen now, does not mean I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

Layla looked away. She said nothing for a moment, then two. Finally, she let out a sigh, and said, “I don’t think it’s wise that you leave the palace now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to worry you,” Layla said, “but the threats against your life have only grown worse in the last week. People still support Benjamin, even if their numbers are small. But I don’t need to tell you how much a vocal minority can do. They have been sending threats since you signed the proclamation. Nothing credible, yet…But that may change.”

You considered Layla’s words. Truth be told, this was something you both feared and expected. A life in the public eye, a life in a role as visible as Queen, was inevitably going to deal with people wanting to harm you. And given how you got the throne…Well, you knew there would certainly be men who were miffed that you “kicked Benjamin out” and wanted to see you be hurt because of that. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Threats come with the territory,” you said. “You could have told me sooner.”

Layla hesitated. “There’s whispers that they…That they might find a way to work with Benjamin. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“…oh.”

“I’ve been trying to work with the prison, to get Benjamin, and Harrow, too, put in solitary. Or at least to limit their time spent with other inmates. Nothing has come of it, though. I worried that nothing would come of it until you were actually hurt.”

“That is the way things are, isn’t it?” You let out a sigh. “I can ask Yelena to look more into it. Perhaps if she can find proof, we can present it to Sam and have an order made. The prison can’t say no to both the Queen and Prime Minister, can they?”

“The courts might take issue it.”

“We’ll deal with that when we get there,” you said. “Luckily, we know some very good lawyers who can help us.”

Layla let out a quiet chuckle. “You should appoint Matt and Foggy as the official counsel of the Crown.”

“Well, all we would have to do there is actually put it on paper,” you laughed. “I missed this, you know. I haven’t gotten to just talk to you for so long. I’ve missed my best friend.”

Layla’s face tinted pink. When she looked at you, her eyes with crinkled at the corners, a smile curling across her face. “And I’ve missed you, dove. Hopefully, the dust is actually starting to settle and we won’t have to keep worrying about death and plots against you.”

“I wish the same. I would much rather have the most difficult thing I’m dealing with be getting rid of everything I associate with Benjamin.” You looked away. “I feel a bit…Not petty, that’s not the right word…But, I’m not sure. I know I have the right to make myself feel at home here. But the media…They make news out of me sneezing. I worry that they’re going to try and spin this a certain way, make me out to the be the bad guy. It’s inevitable, of course. I can’t make the media and the people happy forever. I certainly make them all happy. But I still feel like I have to be very careful about what I do, or else the worst version of this would wind up on the page of some tabloid.”

“Well, there’s no better time than now to make your changes,” Layla said. “Right now, the media is very much on your side. I don’t think very many would stand against you right now when everything you’ve been through is still so recent.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you said. 

“The more concerning thing, I think,” Layla said, “is more they talk about the Marc, Steven, and Jake. Many still are villainizing them.”

“I know. I have…a plan for that. Well, the semblance of a plan. I hope to talk about it with them this morning, to get their approval. I don’t want to do anything that might make it worse for them.”

Layla smiled a bit more. “I’m glad they have you, and you them. You all complement each other so well.”

You smiled, too. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.” You looked to the clock, and took a breath. “Well, I suppose we should be on our way. I would like to eat some breakfast before we begin all of our meetings.”

“Hm, and no better time than to talk to the boys, too, huh?”

“Shh…Don’t guess all of my plans. I’m trying to keep an air of mystery!”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (15) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you make your side known.

word count: 4,571

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, kinda very angsty, mention of waterboarding, mention of death and dove wishing she was dead, pet name (dove), not proofread

You felt like you were going to be sick. You probably were about to be sick. If you existed in a cartoon, your skin would have turned a nasty green color and your cheeks would have been puffed up comically large to show the audience just how sick you were. 

“You’re gonna be fine, dove,” Steven said, rubbing your back, trying to soothe you. It wasn’t working very much, but you appreciated the effort. 

“Think of it this way,” Layla said. She sat on the coffee table in front of you. She leaned forward a bit, her hand coming to rest on your knee, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. “the sooner it’s done with, the sooner he’ll be locked away.”

“I thought I had a few more days,” you said. Your voice was barely above a whisper. You were scared that if you spoke any louder, the force of using your voice might make you actually vomit. (And, okay, sure, that might have been an irrational thought, but you were allowed to be a little irrational—especially right now.) “They were delaying things. They were investigating. I thought it might not be until next week that I had to testify.”

While the last two of the hearing had been cancelled so that Parliament could deal with the media frenzy of Kieran’s reveal, as well as verify the authenticity of Benjamin’s confession, your appearance before the committee was to proceed as planned. There would be no more witnesses to testify. There would be no one else but you. And that scared you shitless. 

The realistic part of you knew that, at this point, your testimony was more of a formality than a necessity to put Benjamin away for good. Even if you fumbled and stumbled and fell, there would be enough to get Benjamin out of your life and off the throne. But the irrational part of you…It reared its ugly head, sneering at you, telling you that you were going to fuck up your own peace, your own happiness, because you couldn’t coherently string together the words to describe everything Benjamin put you through. 

Cleo hopped into your lap, peering up at you, and let out a soft, “Mew?”

“Oh, I’m gonna be fine, baby,” you said, reaching out and scratching behind her ears. You sniffed. “I’m just scared.”

“Mew!” Cleo bumped her head against you. 

“Yeah, I want you to come, too,” you said. You looked over at Layla. “Do you think Parliament would say anything if I brought her? I…I feel like I’m going to need all of the support I can get.”

“I’ll tell them you’re bringing her and that they can kiss my ass if they have anything to say about it,” Layla said. “We’ll probably have to leave earlier than usual, though. Just to make sure she isn’t scared by all the paparazzi.”

You nodded. You bent down and nuzzled your face against Cleo’s. She let out a quiet purr. “Such a sweet angel,” you whispered to her. “You deserve a tre—”

“Mew!” Cleo leapt out of your lap and into Steven’s, nuzzling up against him. 

“I take it back. You’re no angel,” you laughed.

“Hey, don’t say that about my baby!” Steven said, gently pushing your shoulder. “Maybe you should give her more treats and she’ll love you more!”

You stuck your tongue at him then laughed. Talking with Steven and Layla, being with Cleo…It made you feel lighter. It lifted some of the burden off of your shoulders. You wished you could feel like this all the time. You wished you could feel like this during the hearing. Instead, you knew when you sat before Parliament tomorrow, you knew you were going to struggle, and you knew you were going to struggle alone. 

Layla patted your knee again before rising to her feet. “I’m gonna call Sam now. You gonna be okay?”

You leaned into Steven’s side, rested your head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Layla said.

You nodded. “You’re the best, Layla.”

“I try, I try,” she laughed before fishing her phone from her pocket and leaving the room. 

Steven and you were both quiet for a moment, then two. You didn’t like the quiet. It gave you too much room for your thoughts to run wild.

“Can we talk about something? I can’t stand the silence,” you said.

Steven nodded, his curls bouncing slightly. “D’you wanna talk about the hearing or d’you wanna talk about something else?”

“Let’s talk about the future,” you said. 

It was nice, the other day, talking about the future with Steven. It helped calm your still-present concerns that they might leave you. If they were making plans with you, then that meant they intended to stay. It meant they wanted to be with you. And being able to frame it like that, it made the nasty thoughts in your head go quiet. 

“I think you’ll make a great queen,” Steven said.

You let out a quiet laugh. “I won’t have many powers as queen. How could I be so great?”

“But you have some powers, don’t you? And you’ll have proper access to your family’s money. There’s a lot you can do with that,” Steven said. 

“I suppose you’re right,” you said. “I would like to do something important, something that means something, you know? But I worry I won’t be able to execute it properly.”

Steven frowned, his brows furrowing together. “Of course you would, dove. You care too much to let things falls through.”

You shrugged, not entirely convinced. “I guess I just worry too much. I…I spent my whole life being spoken down to. It’s hard to believe in myself, you know?”

Steven’s eyes narrowed a bit, crinkling at the corners, looking more like Jake’s. A small smile curled across his face, his pearly white teeth flashing at you. “You wanna go somewhere that might help with that problem, dove?”

“Do I get to know where?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“Nah, ya just gotta trust me,” Jake said. 

“Then lead the way.”

“Summer Twilights?” you read, looking at the words above the gate leading into…where it was that Jake took you. “That sounds like some cheesy romance novel.”

Jake looked at you. He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You say that like you got something against cheesy romance novels, dove.”

“I wouldn’t know if I did. I’ve never read any,” you said. You looked out the window, looking at the trees you passed by. “I was only allowed to read academic books or classics. The closest I got to romance was Jane Austen, but I know that’s a lot different than a modern romance novel.”

“I don’t know if it’s that different,” Jake said. 

“Well, a modern romance novel isn’t going to require me to break out some Sparks Notes to try and make sense of it,” you laughed. 

Jake gasped. “You used Spark Notes? And here I thought you were just brilliant all on your own!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was too busy memorizing every law in the kingdom to decipher Jane Austen!”

Jake laughed. “It boggles my mind that you had to do that. It can in handy, sure, but who even started that tradition?”

“The first queen,” you said. You rested your head against the glass of the window. “It was centuries ago, and it was the first time a woman sat on the throne. She didn’t garner the same respect as the kings before her, so she had to fight tooth and nail for people to take her seriously. Memorizing all of the laws was part of it. If she knew them all, then surely she must know a thing or two about running a kingdom. Today, though, it’s more of a bragging point than anything else.”

“Your family is weird.”

“You’re not weird.”

You looked over at Jake, seeing the way his face burned red. A smile stretched across his face, revealing his pretty little dimpled cheeks. He let out another laugh, shaking his head as he said, “You’re too good for this world, dove.”

“Not too good,” you corrected, “just honest.”

“Well, you’re in a good place to be honest, dove,” Jake said. He pulled up to a small house surrounded by various buildings. You couldn’t really tell what the property was supposed to be. “Summer Twilights is a self-healing treat. Most people stay here for longer periods of time, but I started coming up on the weekends when I started fronting more regularly. It helped me work through some problems. I haven’t been up here for a while because, well…You know. But I thought it might help you if you could talk about what you went through in a safe environment before you have to talk about it at the hearing.”

“Jake—” Tears started welling up in your eyes. “—that’s so thoughtful of you.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand. He reached out with his other hand, ran his thumb under your eye, wiping the tears away. “You deserve it, my dove.”

Jake put the car into park. He dropped your hand, getting out of the car, and walked around to the other side, opening your door for you. He extended his hand, helping you out, then shut the door. Jake locked the car, hitting the button on the key once, twice. You jumped slightly when the car beeped at the second hit of the button. 

“I’m so sorry, dove—” Jake started to say. 

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you said. You squeezed his hand. You didn’t want him to believe that he had done something wrong—because he hadn’t. He couldn’t help that you were on the jumpy side now. He shouldn’t feel bad for every time you got a little spooked. “Please, don’t ever feel like you’re at fault when I jump like that. Okay? I know you don’t mean anything by it.”

Jake didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked straight ahead, at a man wearing all white approaching the two of you. He was older, late 40’s, early 50’s, perhaps. But he looked older than that, with his slightly disheveled appearance and slumped shoulders. Despite that, he wore a bright smile as he approached you and Jake. 

“Jake, welcome back!” he said to your fiancé. Then he looked at you, his eyes wide and curious, and said, “And you must be Y/N. I’m Emil, it’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you said. 

“Well, come on, come, everyone’s waiting!” Emil said, waving his arm for you to follow him to one of the buildings. 

You looked at Jake. “Everyone?” 

“You’ll see.”

Emil led the two of you into a building that you could only describe as what you imagine a mess hall at a summer camp might look like (minus, of course, the shouting children and various tables scattered about). The walls were covered in wood panelling. The floors were the same shade of wood, so if you relaxed your eyes enough, it was impossible to tell where the walls ended and the floor began. Most curiously, thee was a circle of folding chairs in the center of the room. All but three of the seats were filled. 

“I thought you said this was a retreat? This looks more like a support group.”

“Eh, retreat, support group, what’s the real difference?”

A gasp came from one of the people seated in the circle. She was the only other woman present besides you. She was on the shorter size, but when she leapt from her seat, she had the sort of presence that could dominate a room. Her curls bounced as she walked up to you, a wide smile across her face. She looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her face. 

“Hello!” she greeted, extending her hand. “I’m Jen—Jennifer Walters. And I just wanted to say that I really admire the way that you haven’t let anything that’s happened to you keep you down. I had brief stint in the media a few months ago—completely slandered! they’re a whole bunch of vultures!—and it took everything in me to not give up.”

You blinked slowly as you shook her hand. Oh, had she been the lawyer who’d gotten into a courtroom brawl with some woman who’d gone crazy at a traffic court proceeding then started fighting everyone in the courthouse? Oh, yes, that had been her. You remembered what the media said about her—called her a psycho, chastised her for saving the jury from a woman hellbent on harming them. “It’s not easy,” you said. You looked at Jake beside you. “But I have a good support system.”

“Well, I hope we can add to that. Come on, everyone take a seat.” Emil said, ushering you all towards the chairs. You took a seat between Jake and Jen. Emil sat on the other side of Jen.“Let’s begin, shall we? Y/N, I know it’s your first time with us, but would you like to start? Jake had mentioned to me that you wanted to have some practice before the hearing.”

You blinked. “Oh, sure. Do I just…say my name and then talk about whatever I want?”

“That’s right. Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You nodded. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Fuck. You thought you might have some time before you had to start talking. “Um, I’m Y/N—”

“—hi Y/N!” the circle echoed.

“—and…Well, if there was one way to describe my family, it would be that you’d think we were living in a soap opera with all the insanity that’s happened in recent weeks.” Your heart thumped, hard. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. Turning your gaze to your lap, where you held your hands clasped together, you continued, “I never really considered my family to be loving. Except for my mother, of course. She was the only one who ever liked me, for me. My father and brother, on the other hand…It was clear they saw me as a thorn in their side. It didn’t bother me so much, until my mother died.”

You reached over, grabbing Jake’s hand. He squeezed your hand, tight. “I think she shielded me from their…disapproval. When she was gone, there was no one to stop them from being needlessly cruel. I-I started to think that if I was better, if I did more, if I tried harder, they might not look at me as if I was the scum on their shoes. Now I know that, at least for Benjamin, I never would have been good enough. Kieran…He and I are on better terms, I suppose. He at least apologized for what he’s done. But every time I look at him, I see Benjamin. And every time I see Benjamin…I wish that his attempts to kill me had been successful.”

Jen, from the other side of you, reached over and held your free hand. “The world would be worse without you,” she said. “Everything he said to you, everything he did…He’ll be punished for it. He had no right to treat you that way.”

“That man is not your father,” one of the men in the circle said. He raised his hand, giving a slight wave. “I’m Dirk, Your Majesty.”

“I’m not the Queen, Dirk,” you said. “And you don’t have to use any formalities.”

“Nah, you’re already Queen!” another man said. “William Taurens, Your Majesty. You’re already Queen, even if it’s not been made official yet.”

You furrowed your brows together, looking at each of the people seated in the circle. “Do you all feel that way?”

They all nodded. Dirk said, “You’ve been Queen to us, and a ton of other people, ever since it came out that Benjamin was behind your kidnapping and poisoning. We don’t respect a man who tries to kill his kid.”

“Everyone’s been calling you the Queen Dove,” William said. “You know, because you’re gonna be Queen and your fiancés call you dove.”

“I think she got that,” a third man said. “Alejandro, Your Majesty. It’s been all over the news, even more so after Kieran presented that tape at the hearing. Haven’t you noticed?”

You glanced at Jake, then at Alejandro. “I stopped watching the news when all I saw was so-called journalists trashing my fiancés and saying they were behind the rift in the family. I was too scared, too upset, about what I could possible see to watch anymore.”

“You should take another look,” Jen said. “I think you might be surprised by how many people stand behind you.”

Perhaps you would be. If they were anything like the people sitting next to you, you supposed things might not be so bad after all. 

You looked at Jake again, smiling slightly. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you said. 

“Anything for you, my dove.”

“Fuck, you two are so cute!”

“Jen, you’re ruining the moment!”

You fought the urge to pick at your dress. You’d been sitting, waiting for the hearing to start, for well over an hour. You’d arrived even earlier than that. There was some benefit to it—you were able to avoid most of the paparazzi that crowded outside the hotel and the Parliament building. There were still a few, to be sure. There were enough that cared more about getting the first shot of you than they cared about meeting their own basic needs. So you still had to wade through a sizable crowd. But it was far less than what might have been gathered if you left later in the morning. Once in the safety of the Parliament building, you, Jake, and Cleo took some time to walk around until your anxieties got the best of you and you needed to sit down. 

Now, it was hard for you to keep your thoughts from spiraling. 

“Take deep breaths,” Jake said. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand, tight. “Just focus on your breathing. Okay, dove?”

You sucked in a deep breath, your eyes fluttering shut as you exhaled. In your lap, Cleo stirred and she placed her two front paws on your chest, leaning up and bumping her nose against yours. 

“Mew?”

“I'm feeling better, baby,” you said to her, scratching behind her ears. She nuzzled her head against you, purring softly. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re helping me so much, baby.”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Jake pouted. 

You reached out, cupped his chin in one hand and pulled him down. You kissed him gently, smiling against his lips. “Definitely not chopped liver.”

“Hey, isn’t this supposed to be a legal proceeding? Don’t make out with your fiancé here!”

You pulled away from Jake, turning your head to see the support group from Summer Twilights walk into the room. You let out a laugh. You hadn’t expected them to be here. The room had been packed full every day of the hearing so far. You were fairly certain people had paid for their seats. How did they even get in? 

“You’d do the same if you were in my shoes, Jen,” you said, shaking your head at her. You looked at Jake. “Did you…?”

“Layla called in another favor,” Jake said. “We plan on milking the Parliament’s fuck up for as long as possible.”

You let out a laugh. You looked back at the group. “I’m glad you’re hearing. Come, sit in the front.”

They all filed up to the front of the room, filling out the entire front row (save for two empty seats for Jake and Layla). 

“You’re gonna do great, Your Majesty,” Dirk said. 

“Yeah, they’re gonna have a coronation right here and now when you get done!” William said. 

“Time to wheel out the Crown Jewels!” Alejandro shouted. 

You laughed a little harder. “Thank you all for being here. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course we’d be here for you, Y/N,” Jen said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You looked at each of them, an odd feeling settling in your chest. You never really had many friends before. Just Layla for a long time, and then your fiancés. Tears started to prick at your eyes. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

And you truly couldn’t. They, and Jake and Cleo, distracted you from your anxieties as you waited for the hearing to begin. It was easy to forget what you were about to do when you could talk to them. And when Matt, Foggy, and Layla joined? It almost felt like you weren’t about to do something that scared you half to death. 

But then the crowd started to gather. The energy shifted. You couldn’t ignore the way that people tried to peer over at you, ready to make a story about each and every one of your reactions. Your smile dropped. Instead, you now wore a more solemn, near-neutral expression. You twisted back around to face the front. You tried to steady your breathing. You didn’t want to begin the hearing with a panic attack. 

Soon enough, the members of Parliament conducting the hearing filed into the room and took their seats. Behind you, Jake whispered a “good luck” and Layla whispered a “you’re going to do amazing”. At the front of the room, Sam banged his gavel and called for order. 

“Good morning,” Sam said to you after a hush fell over the crowd. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the process by now. Please state your name and occupation for the record.”

“My name is Y/N,” you said. You paused, considering your words. Princess didn’t do it justice. The Future Queen was too ambitious. You settled on— “And I’m the rightful heir to the throne.”

One of the members of Parliament, John Walker, raised a brow. He hadn’t spoken much during the hearing. He had asked a few questions of Benjamin. From what you gathered, he was on Benjamin’s side of things. It came as no surprise, then, when he said, “That’s a rather bold statement to make. Do you really think it’s appropriate under the circumstances.”

Cleo hissed at him. You scratched behind her ears, trying to calm her down, as you said, “It’s the truth. At this point, it’s undeniable that Benjamin had an affair and posed Kieran as the heir when Kieran has never been legitimate. Perhaps it is cruel to say it now, when he’s seated just feet away, but it’s far less cruel than anything I have endured.”

“You’ve endured more than most,” Wanda said, not bothering to hide her glare at Walker. Her eyes softened as she looked back to you. “We’ve gotten a decent picture at what life was like behind the palace walls. But the picture is not yet complete. Could you please explain to us what your relationship was like with your family?”

Cleo nuzzled her head against your chest, peering up at you with wide eyes. You sucked in a deep breath. “Complicated is, perhaps, the best word to describe it. In recent weeks, I…have struggled to call Benjamin and Kieran family. They are undoubtedly my blood, but I’ve learned that that’s not enough. My mother, however…She was my real family.”

“Indeed, it’s been well reported how close you were with us,” Wanda said. 

“She was my mother and best friend,” you said. “She shielded me from Benjamin for as long as she could. I’m forever grateful for that. Had it not been for her…I don’t know if I would have ever gotten this far. I certainly wouldn’t be the same person. She showed me the good, the light, in the world. She made sure I knew kindness. She was the most amazing person I’ve ever known.” Your lower lip wobbled. Shit. You didn’t want to cry this early on. And, yet, the tears sprung to your eyes, and your voice wavered, as you continued, “When Benjamin had me kidnapped, all I wanted was to experience her kindness just one more time before I died.”

“Just to clarify, and I understand this is difficult to talk about, Your Maj—Your Highness—you thought you were going to die?” Monica asked.

“Benjamin failed once. I know him well enough that he’d do anything to make sure he didn’t fail again,” you said. “What I went through…it was beyond cruel. It was sadistic. I’ve tried to forget a lot of it. But it stays…I don’t think it’ll ever go away. II can’t take a shower, I can’t wash my hair, I can’t wash my face, without going back to that room. I remember being strapped to the chair, a cloth wrapped around my head. I remember Harrow dumping water on me. I remember feeling like I was drowning. I remember wishing I was drowning. If I was drowning, at least it would have ended.”

A sort of unease settled in the room. No one said anything for a beat, then two. 

“Your Highness—” Walker started. 

“In some ways, I suppose Benjamin won. A part of me did die then. Every time I’ve come here, every time I’ve left the safety of my room, I think it’s the end. I question who I can trust. Someone I thought had been assigned to me a bodyguard was the one who took me. How do I know that the reporters outside are safe? How do I know if the person who cooks my food is safe? How do I know anyone is safe? I used to be able to trust more easily. Now, I’m less sure. I don’t know if I’ll ever be sure again.”

“Your Highness, please only speak when you’ve been asked a question,” Walker said.

“She had been asked a question,” Monica said, narrowing her eyes at Walker. “I asked her to clarify. She did.”

Sam banged his gavel once, silencing the two. He looked to you. “As Prime Minister, I would like to formally apologize for the role that we played.”

“Respectfully, I think it’s a little late for apologies,” you said. 

Sam nodded. “I understand. While we’re on the topic of apologies, could you elaborate on your relationship with your brother, Kieran?”

You shrugged. “I feel as he explained it well enough when testified. He wanted to be like Benjamin. He acted like Benjamin. It was only earlier this week that I knew he had a change of heart.”

“Did you forgive him?” Walker asked. 

“I asked if he was going to be a coward like Benjamin. Kieran said he never wanted to be like that man again. That was the end of it,” you said. “After his testimony, I’m not sure. He did something right, he did something good. But he still hurt me for so many years, for no good reason. I think it’s going to take a lot for me to feel comfortable to let him my life.”

“If I may change the subject, Your Highness,” Natasha said, “but I think it’s important to ask, given the nature of this hearing is to remove your father from the throne. Do you want to be Queen?”

You answered without giving it much thought. “I never thought much about it until recent weeks. I always assumed I would be married off to some foreign dignitary, sent far away from here. I didn’t think I had the right to rule. But after everything I’ve been through, there is nothing I would rather do. If Benjamin was killing to kill me, I can only imagine the horrible things he has done as King that has gone unnoticed. I don’t want anyone to suffer the way I have. I want to do right by the people.”

You took a pause, looking at Cleo who was curled up on your lap, then back to your entire row of a support group behind you. You looked at the people around the room, all of them watching you with bated breath. You looked at Benjamin, who struggled to maintain his poker face. You turned back around. 

“There would be no greater honor than if I could serve my people as Queen. There is nothing else I would rather do.”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (14) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: the king is exposed, the future is considered, and the past is revealed. 

word count: 4,582

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, fluff, a little angsty, discussion of randall + wendy, discussion of did, pet name (dove)

If Kieran wasn’t telling the truth, Jake was going to kill him. He didn’t care that Kieran was your brother (and he supposed you didn’t care much, either). Jake couldn’t stand the idea that you might get hurt again. That Kieran might have been misleading you. That Kieran was trying to build your hopes up just so he may tear them all down again. Jake said as much to you. 

After Kieran left and Steven let Jake front while he tried to calm down, Jake couldn’t stop himself from declaring a string of threats toward Kieran. But when he saw the look in your eye as you stared at the door, he stopped. You wouldn’t say it—perhaps you couldn’t—but you wanted to believe that Kieran had a change of heart. So, Jake took you in his arms and squeezed you tight and said nothing. Words, he realized, wouldn’t be enough to comfort you at the moment. 

Now, as he watched Kieran approach the bench, Jake wished he could hold you like that again. Instead, he settled for taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “You’ll be okay, my dove,” Jake said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to be more than okay,” you whispered back. “I want to be safe.”

Sam banged his gavel, calling the hearing into order. “Thank you all for coming to the second day of this hearing on whether His Majesty, King Benjamin should be removed from the throne. We begin today with hearing from Kieran Y/L/N,” Sam said. He looked to Kieran. “Please state your name and occupation for the record.”

Kieran cleared his throat. “My name is Kieran Y/L/N. My occupation is…Well, it’s complicated. For the last twenty-nine years, I thought that I was a prince, that I would be King and I acted as such. In recent weeks…I suppose I’ve just been a son. I’ve just been a brother. Not a good one, either. Not a good brother, I mean.”

“Could you explain that last statement?” Natasha Romanoff asked. 

Kieran nodded. “When I thought I was a prince, I looked up to my father. I wanted to be just like him. Where he moved, I followed. And when he thought Y/N was an embarrassment to the Crown, I echoed his concerns. It wasn’t until Y/N was poisoned that I realized I was wrong to follow him.”

“You say you looked up to the King and followed his every move. I would imagine that means he let you be privy to information he prefers to keep close to his chest,” Monica said. “Is that a correct presumption?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kieran said. “He was raising me to be King. In order to be an effective King in the future, it helped to see how the current King worked. I got to see and hear a lot of things that no one else, save for his advisor Arthur Harrow, got to see and hear.”

“Then did he confess to you that he was behind the poisoning of the princess?” Monica asked. 

“Not in so many words, ma’am,” Kieran said. “That night, after everyone had left, I was going to his office, my father’s office, because I was concerned if someone was threatening us. I wanted to know if this was something we should be concerned about. When I reached his office, I heard him talking with Harrow. My father had commended Harrow on the wine served. My sister…She hated wine. Her birthday ball is the only event where she was allowed to dictate what drinks were served. My father usually abided by that. This time, he didn’t. So, no, he didn’t tell me that he was behind the poisoning, but if the wine he had Harrow serve was the one thing my sister wasn’t controlling, I could only imagine that he was the one behind her poisoning. He didn’t say a word, though, andI don’t imagine he ever planned to. But then Y/N recovered, and she revealed to the kingdom that I am not the heir to the throne. After that, he…he became more willing to let me know about the plot to…get rid of her.”

“By get rid of her, you mean that the King planned to have the princess, the true heir to the throne, killed?” Wanda asked. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Kieran confirmed. 

“The princess’s poisoning was not the only attempt on her life,” Sam said. “Not long after the incident at the ball and the subsequent reveal that you were not the legitimate heir to the throne, the guard the Parliament assigned to her was attacked and another man posed as the guard. He then kidnapped the princess while her guard was down and took her away from the city where she was tortured. Had it not been for her fiancés efforts, she might no longer be with us.”

Your nails bit into the skin of Jake’s hand. He was almost certain that he was going to bleed. Jake peered at you, trying to get a read of your face, but you appeared unemotional. But he could see the pain in your eyes. It hadn’t been very long since you were saved. The wounds were still fresh.

“Are you to suggest, then,” Sam continued, “that the King was also behind this?”

“Yes, sir,” Kieran said. “I wasn’t privy to the information at the time she was kidnapped. My father thought I was on his side. I suppose he believed I was upset over being outed as a bastard to the entire kingdom. To be fair, I was. But none of that anger was ever directed at my sister. She was only doing what she thought was right—she did what was right. I might have preferred her to let me know before going on national television, but she thought I was still against her, like I always had been. I don’t blame her, or hate her, for any action she has taken. Still, because of my past actions, my father thought I was on his side. So, when I saw the headline that my sister was missing, I had an inkling that, if I asked, he might tell the truth.”

“What did the King say?” Wanda asked. 

“I think it’s better that you hear it from the King himself,” Kieran said, raising a CD. “My father’s not the only one who’s familiar with the kingdom’s laws. Knowing that the information was invaluable, I recorded our conversation.”

One of the guards standing by came forward and took the CD from Kieran. Another guard wheeled out a stereo system and inserted the CD. Jake took a moment to look at Benjamin, and he reveled in the look on his face. Oh, Jake was sure Benjamin’s head was about to explode from how angry he was. Good. He deserved it. 

The guard pressed play, and the sound echoed through the room—

“Father, have you seen the news?”

“There’s a lot of things on the news,” Benjamin replied. There was a rustling of papers in the background. “Care to be more specific? You know a future King must always use specificity in his language.”

“Y/N has gone missing. They’re saying she’s been kidnapped.”

It sounded like Benjamin let out a snort of a laugh. “Oh, I’ve seen that. Why do you ask?”

There was a pause. “Well, she embarrassed us. I figured you might take some action against her, and I…I want to be able to keep our stories straight. In case someone asks us if we were involved, I mean. I…What I mean to ask is, were you involved in this?”

“The Parliament is made up of a bunch of fools. They’ll never be able to pin this on us, no matter how hard they tried.”

I’m gonna kill ‘im, Steven snarled.

Jake glanced at you. You looked like you were about to be sick. You looked like you were ready to jump from your seat and flee the building. Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing. Jake let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes!” Benjamin snapped. He took a breath, then let out a low chuckle. “They won’t find her. Harrow will make sure of that. The capitol and the surrounding cities will shut down. By the time law enforcement realizes she’s not in the city, it’ll be too late to save her.”

The room erupted into shouts and screams. Most of them were directed at Benjamin. All of them, perhaps, were directed at Benjamin. There was too much going on at once for Jake to even attempt deciphering it all. Someone threw something at Benjamin. (Jake was half-convinced Steven took a page out of Mark’s book and took control of the arm and threw it himself.) Sam banged his gavel, trying to restore order. Order, however, was not restored. Jake supposed it wouldn’t be restored for a long time. 

The hearing let out early that day.

After the hearing descended into madness, Jake and you returned to the hotel. Steven fronted shortly thereafter, wanting to spend some time with you. So, he ditched the suit that Jake had worn to the hearing, slipping into a pair of pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. Then he crawled into the bed he and you shared and eagerly awaited cuddle time. Unfortunately, you couldn’t join him right away. Apparently, you needed to talk to Matt and Foggy about how the hearing would go for the rest of the week. So, now he waited in bed for you to get off the phone. 

“Hi baby,” Steven cooed as Cleo hopped into the bed. Cleo curled up on his chest, purring lowly. Steven reached up, gently petting her. “Where’s your mommy at? She still on the phone?”

“Mew?” Cleo lifted her head, leaning forward and bumping her nose against Steven’s. 

Before Steven could say anything more, he heard you walking into the room. He turned his head, watching as you came over, carrying a bag of Cleo’s treats. “There you are!” you said, setting the treat bag on the nightstand before climbing into the bed beside Steven. You looked to him, smiling, laughter seeping into your words as you said, “I mentioned getting the baby a treat and she came running to you! Want to confess to spoiling our little baby?”

“Whatever Marc told you is a lie,” Steven said. 

Hey! You and I both know you’ve been sneaking Cleo treats every opportunity you get, Marc said. 

“Then is Jake a liar too?” you teased.

Et tu, Jake? 

I’m no snitch!, Jake protested. 

“Jake’s calling you the liar,” Steven said. 

Woah, woah, woah, Jake said. Don’t put words in my mouth!

“I don’t think he’d do that,” you said, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Steven’s lips. His eyes fluttered shut and he instinctively followed after you as you pulled away. “Just like he didn’t say you’ve been spoiling our baby with treats.”

Steven’s heart stuttered in his chest. Our baby. God, he loved the sound of that. He so desperately craved any form of domesticity. And he so desperately wanted that with you. Steven wanted a life, and everything that that entailed, with you. 

“You’re rotten,” Steven said. “Think you owe me another kiss for that, don’t you? I think you do.”

You smiled and leaned in, your lips molding together with his. Steven reached up, caressing your face, holding you close to him. God, he could have stayed like that forever, but someone had other plans. Cleo, not happy with the situation, jumped up and swatted at you, causing you to jump away from Steven.

“Cleo!” you gasped. “No, don’t do that!”

“Jealous baby,” Steven said, laughing. He rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Do you want a baby? Like a human baby?”

You were quiet for a moment. Steven worried that he overstepped. Was it too early to have these conversations? Was now not a good time? It probably wasn’t… You had so much on your mind. The last thing you needed to be thinking about was starting a family. For goodness sake, the two of you haven’t even begun planning a wedding! 

“I never really gave it much thought, if I’m being honest,” you finally said. Oh. Maybe now was not the best time to be talking about this then. Steven should really try and segue the conversation back to a more appropriate topic. Yet, before he could, you continued, “But…I think I like that idea. I mean, only if it’s with my loves.”

Steven’s face warmed. He understood why Jake liked being called that so much. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy. It made him feel loved and appreciated. It made him feel like he belonged with you. “I want a big family. At least three, I think,” Steven said. “And I hope they all take after you—beautiful and brilliant.”

“I hope they take after my loves,” you said. “Kind and loyal. Maybe a little bit snippy, too.”

“It’s not nice to call Marc snippy, dove,” Steven said. 

“Sure, that’s who I was talking about,” you laughed. “Certainly not the one who’s been vying to fight Benjamin ever since he met him.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a fight. I’d flatten ‘im before he even realized I was comin’ at ‘im.”

You giggled, carding your fingers through his hair. “What do you think we should name our babies?”

“Randall,” Steven said before he could stop himself. His heart stopped as soon as he said it. Shit. Marc’s trauma was Steven’s trauma, but…Sometimes Steven felt so far removed from it. He didn’t have a lot of the same memories as Marc. His childhood was so different to Marc’s. Oh, he hoped he hadn’t upset Marc…

“Oh? Is he someone important to you?”

“He—” Steven started. 

Please, don’t. Not yet, Marc asked—nay, begged. 

“He’s someone Marc should tell you about,” Steven said. “It’s a sensitive topic, though. Let him bring it up to you, yeah?”

You nodded, a frown settling on your face. “Is he listening now?” When Steven nodded, you said, “Take all the time you need, my love. But know that I am always ready and willing to listen. And that I like the name Randall if it’s okay with him.”

Please tell her thank you, Marc said. 

Steven repeated Marc’s words to you. Then, he asked, “Do you have any names in mind, dove?”

“I like Elaine, after my mother,” you said. “I think I like it more as a middle name. I’m not too sure.”

What about Eliana?, Jake suggested. Inspired by her mother, but still our baby girl’s own name.

“Jake suggested Eliana,” Steven said. 

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Oh, I really like that! Yeah, if we have a daughter, I think we should name her Eliana.”

“Mew?” Cleo said, nudging her head against your shoulder. 

“Another daughter, I mean,” you corrected. “We’ll name our second daughter Eliana, because we already have an amazing first daughter.”

“Mew!” Cleo agreed, nodding her head before turning back to Steven and curling up against him. 

“I love this,” Steven said. “I feel so at peace with you. I just want to jump ahead and make it all official, you know? Marry you, properly move in together, the whole shebang.”

You let out a sigh. “It’ll be a long while before we can do all that. We still have to finish this hearing. Then there’s the coronation, which will have to be done before we’re married. Only after that can we start planning the wedding. It’ll be a few years before we can finally get married.”

“Does it really have to take that long?” Steven asked. “You don’t have to abide by all of those procedures, you know.”

“I’m supposed to. It’s what they expect. After everything that’s happened, I have to be on my best behavior. The Royal Family is all about following tradition.”

“But, the people like you because you’re not traditional, dove. You go against everything the Royal Family has done for the last hundred years. If you don’t do what’s expected, they’ll probably love you even more,” Steven said. “And besides, shouldn’t you do things that make you happy? We could still do a big, public ceremony after the coronation. But what’s stopping us from having a private ceremony before then?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you said. “It just…It terrifies me. Every time I do anything, I just hear Benjamin chastising me. Telling me that I’m going to ruin everything him and my ancestors have built.”

“You can’t ruin what was built on a faulty foundation, dove. You can only improve it.”

The hearing for the day had been cancelled as Parliament tried to handle the aftermath of Kieran presenting the recording of Benjamin confessing to having you kidnapped and tortured. Marc was grateful. He knew how much of a toll it was taking on you, and he knew you deserved a break from it. And, it gave him reason to cuddle you, which was always a plus. 

It was midmorning, and the two of you were still in bed. Cleo had abandoned you both a few hours earlier, seeking out the warmth of the sunshine streaming in through the windows. Now, you and him laid in the comfort of each other’s arms, both of you finding reasons to not get up. 

“We should get up soon,” you would say, running your fingers along Marc’s jawline. “We should do something productive.”

“Cuddling you is productive,” Marc would whisper back, fighting to keep his eyes open. It felt so easy to rest around you. He had never felt so relaxed in his life. “Besides, it’s cold out there, and you’re nice and warm.”

And hot!, Jake would say. 

I think that was implied, Steven would laugh.

I’m trying to have a moment here! Marc would say. 

Marc liked looking at you like this, when you were at your most vulnerable. He liked being one of the few people who got to see you like this. Your sleepy eyes, your eyelashes fluttering as you drifted between the dreamworld and reality, your slowed movements as you pulled him closer to you. He loved this. He loved you.

Which…he felt bad about. Not the loving you part. God, he could never feel badly about that. It’s just…the words. Saying them. Every time he tried, it felt like he was choking. Like someone had reached around from behind him, clasped their hand around his throat, and squeezed. Worse, perhaps, you never got upset with him about it. You were so patient with him. And that scared him. How long might that last? You’d never given any indication that you might snap, but…Well, that’s never stopped people who were supposed to love him before. 

Still, he wanted to say it. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. And even while he couldn’t, not yet, he still wanted to show you in every conceivable way possible. 

Marc leaned in, nuzzled his nose against yours. “We haven’t taken you on a real date yet,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your face. He leaned in, like he was subconsciously trying to melt into you. He wished he could. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “I enjoy your company plenty without having to go on a date.”

He reached down, taking your hands in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hands once, twice, three times. “I want to spoil you. I can’t give you much in terms of money or, or gifts. But I can make you feel special. And I want to make you feel special.”

You leaned your forehead against his, letting out a soft sigh. “Nothing fancy, please? I can’t stand formalities much these days. I want it to just be us—and Steven and Jake, if they decide to hang around.”

“I have the perfect date in mind,” he said. He started to get up, slowly unwinding himself from you. “I have to go make a coupla calls to get it set up, dove.”

“Nooo,” you whined, reaching out, trying to stop him from leaving. “Stay here, make the calls here.”

“I want it to be a surprise, my dove,” he laughed. “And I need to call soon, or else it might not be ready for tonight.”

“Fine,” you said, your lower lip jutting out into a pout. “But can we cuddle some more after you make the call?”

“Of course, dove,” Marc said. 

After a few phone calls, an extended cuddle session, and several hours later, Marc was ready to take you out on your first date together. It was more on the casual side, which Marc noted that you seemed to be relieved by given the way you brightened when he responded to your question as to what would be appropriate for the evening. Marc had noticed that about you. You would never complain, never say a bad word about it, but he could tell you were exhausted after years of having to act prim and proper. 

Even at your most casual, though, you looked angelic. It was amazing to witness, if he was being honest. You were the sort of person artists would call their muse. You were the sort of person people wrote poems about. You were the sort of person who, even long after you were gone, would still live on in people’s memories and stories. And Marc was forever grateful that he got to witness that. 

“You ready, dove?” Marc asked, watching as you slipped on a pair of shoes. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, rising out of your seat and crossing the room to him, slipping your hand in his. You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. (He nearly cried.) “Where we headed to, my love?”

(Dammit, you wanted him to bawl like a baby, didn’t you?)

“I got us a private room at the hotel restaurant,” Marc said, leading you out of the room and to the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy, but I thought it was better than venturing outside and having to fight off the vultures.”

You laughed. “They’re just trying to make a living.”

You were too kind. The kingdom didn’t deserve you. God, it frustrated Marc to no end that people could be so cruel, that people would try to take advantage of you and your kindness. 

“They could be more respectful,” Marc said. “It’s not like it’s hard.”

“They would never change. They don’t have a reason to,” you said. “But let’s not talk about them. I don’t want them to ruin our night.”

Finally, you reached the restaurant, and the hostess led you both to a private room near the back of the restaurant. Marc pulled your seat out for you, allowing you to sit before pushing it in. He took his seat across from you, then ordered your favorite champagne for the both of you. 

“You’ll pulling out all the stops for something that’s supposed to be casual, Mr. Spector,” you teased, your eyes twinkling as you looked at him. 

“I can still treat you right while on a casual date,” Marc said. He reached across the table and took your hand in his. He squeezed once, twice, three times. “You only deserve the best, dove. I want to make sure you always treated right.”

“How did I get so lucky?” 

“I’m the lucky one,” Marc said. A lump settled in his throat, tears pricked at his eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d get so emotional so quickly. He swallowed hard. Cleared his throat. “I never thought I’d experience something so amazing. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Of course you deserve amazing things, Marc. Why wouldn’t you?”

He looked away, not meeting your gaze. He wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you everything that had happened to him, that made him what he is. But…it terrified him. He hated the idea of opening up to someone, anyone. Even when that someone was a person as considerate as you. Marc could trust you with anything. He knew that. But jumping over that hurdle? He was scared he might fall.  

“Oh. Hey, don’t feel like you have to tell me anything, okay? I didn’t mean to bring up something uncomfortable.”

“He was my brother,” Marc blurted out. 

“Huh?”

“Randall. He was my brother,” Marc said. “He…He died, when we were little.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him. “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful.”

“I blamed myself…It was an accident, but I was supposed to look out for him, but I…I failed. He died because of me,” he whispered. “My mom made sure I never forgot that.”

You squeezed his hand, tight, once, twice, three times. You didn’t say anything. You knew that he needed to let this off his chest. He was carrying a heavy burden, and he could take however long he needed to unload it. 

“Do you know what causes DID?” he asked. When you shook your head, he said, “Severe, prolonged trauma. My mom…She…she…She convinced herself I did it on purpose. That I secretly hated Randall. She took her anger out on me. That’s how we got Steven. He, he doesn’t have the same memories of my mom as I do. I couldn’t protect Randall, but I…I could shield Steven from her. He didn’t know about how cruel she was until much later.”

He took a deep breath, trying to control his rapid heartbeat. “Jake came later. He’s newer to the system. As I got older, I got more aggressive. I got angrier. It got worse when I joined the Moon Knights. I made a lot of stupid decisions early on. I…I got really close to dying. Jake, he…Where I protected Steven, he protected us both. He kept us safe.”

You lifted your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“It…It’s hard for me to talk about my emotions,” he said. “Even the good ones. Anytime I showed any emotion, I got punished for it. By my mom, by the Moon Knights…I get scared that if I tell you how I feel, you’ll punish me for it. But I also get scared that you’ll leave me, because I can’t say three simple words.”

“I know how you feel, my love,” you said, You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. “You tell me even if you don’t use words. I understand your fears. But I won’t ever intentionally hurt you. You can take as much time as you need. I love you, and whether you ever feel safe enough to say the words or you don’t, that won’t ever change.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Thank you for telling me all of this,” you said. “I know it must’ve been really hard for you to talk about.”

It was. God, it felt like Marc was walking across hot coals to tell you what he did, even with him leaving out many of the details. “You make me feel safe,” he said. 

He hoped he made you feel the same. 

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (23) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: peace is yours. 

word count: 3,862

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, very brief smut, oral (f receiving), fluff, pet name (dove), not proofread

Jake’s tongue was pure magic, you decided. Fuck. You could live the rest of your life with his head buried between your thighs and you would die the happiest woman in the world. Jake had stayed true to his word of your honeymoon being a “weeklong sex extravaganza”. From the very second you arrived at the beach house, Jake pounced on you like a depraved man, barely passing through the threshold before taking you over and over and over. Poor Marc and Steven had to fight to get any attention that first night (which, of course, you were more than happy to give them once they were able to front). 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” you cried out, fingers tangling in Jake’s pretty curls, tugging hard at the roots. “Oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me, dove,” Jake practically purred, dipping his head to give your clit a harsh suck. “C’mon, know you got another one in you, gimme another one. Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“Your good girl, ‘m your good girl.”

“So lucky to have you,” he said, scissoring his fingers in your wet pussy. “Can’t believe we got so lucky to have you. Our pretty little dove, sings so pretty for us.”

A loud moan escaped your lips, echoing off the walls of the bedroom. Your back arched off the bed as waves of pleasures washed over you, practically drowning you in the ecstasy. Jake pressed soft kisses to your shaking thighs, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he made his up your body. 

“So perfect, dove, so fucking perfect,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. He blinked once, twice, three times before Marc fronted. He looked at you, an amused look on his face. “Jake’s real good at making a mess of you, huh?”

“Oh, hush,” you laughed, pushing at his shoulder so he rolled over off of you, onto his back. You snuggled into his side, humming contentedly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “You make as big of a mess as him, too. You and Steven both.”

“Yeah, but Jake’s the greedy one, so I get to make fun of him for the results of his greediness,” Marc teased. He kissed the top of your head. “Can’t blame him, though. If he wasn’t so good at shutting me and Steven out when he’s fronting, we’d both be just like him.”

You snorted, knowing that that was the truth. It was almost unnerving how much stamina Jake had. You could only imagine how much more intense the honeymoon would have been if you would have had to deal a more consistent rotation of your husbands. You kissed Marc’s pec, right where his heart was, and said, “I hope you still had fun this week. Steven, too.”

“Of course we did, dove. Seeing you so relaxed is everything we could have wanted for this honeymoon. Even if we took more of a backseat this week, we have a thousand more weeks to come.”

“Oh, so you’re only planning on sticking around for another…what, nineteen, twenty years?” you teased. 

Panic flashed across Marc’s face. Your heart sunk as he stuttered out, “No! N-No, I want to be with you forever. I want an entire lifetime with you!”

“Hey, hey, I was just teasing,” you said, keeping your voice calm. You raised up, adjusting so you were looking Marc in the face. You reached up, caressing his face. “I know you want forever. So do I. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything else.”

His breathing started to steady as he nodded. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to get so worked up. I just…I want you to know I’m all in. You’re it for me, dove. You’re all I could ever want out of a wife.”

You kissed the tip of his nose. “And you’re everything I could want in a husband.”

Marc chewed on his lip, seemingly unsure. He was quiet for a minute, maybe two. You didn’t say anything, wanting to give him the room to talk if he so chose. Finally, he asked, “Even if I’m not sure if I would be a good father?”

“Marc—”

“Because I’m…I’m really scared I won’t be. Sometimes…” He looked away, blinking away the tears that were starting to well up. “Sometimes, I see my mom in me. I see her rage, I see her manipulation. I see how she treated me well until she exploded…I worry that there’s more of her in me than I thought.”

You sat up fully. “Marc, I don’t know your mother, but I can promise you you aren’t anything like her. You care so much. You love so much, even if you’re scared to always show it. I mean, the fact that you’re already so worried about something that hasn’t even happened yet says a lot. If you were an abuser, you wouldn’t care like this. Trust me, Benjamin never once worried if he was a bad father.”

“I don’t know, dove…”

“And even if you weren’t going to be a good father from the start…We can go to parenting classes. We can read books. We can…I mean, if you’re comfortable, you could share your worries at Summer Twilights with me and Jake. I mean, it helped me a lot when I started going. Or we could do individual, like one-on-one therapy. And you’ll have me, and Jake, and Steven. Plus my entire army of a security detail. You won’t be alone with this. We can help you, if you let us.”

“If I ever…” He swallowed hard. “If I ever turn out like her…Throw me out. Okay? Don’t let me stick around. I-I’ll disappear. Let Steven and Jake take control from thereon out.”

“That won’t ever be necessary. You will be a good father, I’m sure of it.”

Marc nodded. He reached up, grabbing at the back of your head, pulling you down to kiss him. “I’ll try. I’ll try to be a good father.”

You settled yourself on his lap, brushing your nose against his. “If you’re half as good of a father as you are a husband, you’ll be amazing.”

“You mean that?”

“More than anything I’ve ever said to you,” you said. You paused. “Well, second to our vows. But a very close second at that.”

Marc laughed, shaking his head, but made no further protests. “So, uh, while I’m still fronting…Do you think you’re up for another round?”

“For you? Anytime.”

The downside to taking a week off was that, when you returned, a mountain of work awaited. For a position that had no substantial power, you mused, there was a lot of work associated with it. Of course, all of the work was of your own choosing. With as many patronages as you had chosen, you should have expected (and you did expect) a heavy workload to be associated with it. Still, like everyone, you liked to complain about things entirely of your own doing. 

The silver-lining, perhaps, was that you got to attend the groundbreaking ceremony for the expansion of Summer Twilights during your first week back at the palace. As the patron, you were invited to the ceremony. You couldn’t be more excited. You only wanted the best for Emil and his work. After all, it was his work that was bringing you closer to healing. It was his work that was helping so many others. And if you could be part of him helping many more…Well, that would be a great honor, indeed. 

“Do you think this looks fine?” you asked, turning so you could get a better look of your reflection in the mirror.

You were wearing cream sweater and an emerald green skirt. It was a simpler look than you typically went for, for an official event. But, it felt right when you first picked it out. Now that it was on, though…Well, your doubts were starting to eat at you. The media picked at everything, after all. From your words to your smile to your now-husbands…You hated to give than any more ammunition than they needed. 

Steven came up behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. His head dipped, pressing a kiss to your neck. “You look beautiful, dove.”

You turned, raising a brow. “I thought Jake was the one who was going with me?”

Steven offered you a lopsided smile. “He hogged your time during the honeymoon, I get to hog his pre-official engagement time with you.”

“Silly goose,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Didn’t expect you to be the most jealous between the three of you, hm? Well, if you want to make Jake real jealous, you better pucker up and give me a kiss, my love.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Steven wrapped his arms around you and dipped you. He pressed a myriad of kisses around your face before finally coming to the biggest, most passionate kiss he had ever given you. “That do the trick, dove?”

“I don’t know, how much is Jake shouting that he deserved that kiss?” you giggled. 

“Oh, he’s about to give me a migraine with how much he’s shouting.”

“Mm, better give me one last kiss before you go, hm? Don’t want him to make you have a headache.”

Steven kissed you again, but as he kissed you, you felt the shift in his body language. The way his grip tightened, the swipe of his tongue against your lips, the charming desperation in his movements. 

“Hi, Jake,” you cooed when you pulled away. 

“No, no, come back, wanna show Steven how to kiss you senseless,” Jake said, leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. 

You let out a laugh, pulling away again. “There’s plenty of time for that later, my love. We can’t be late for this.”

Jake’s lips fell into a pout. “Can we kiss during the car ride?”

“…We can kiss during the car ride.”

A long make-out session, brief fixing of your lipstick, followed by another wave of kisses later, you and Jake arrived at the groundbreaking ceremony. Jake got out of the car first, holding his hand out for you to take. As you stepped out of the car, you were blinded by the flashes of cameras. You took a breath, then smiled, waving at the photographers. 

“Emil’s pulling out all the stops if he’s rolled out a red carpet,” Jake mused as the two of you walked down the carpet. 

“He deserves to. It’s a big moment,” you said. You reached the end of the carpet, which led to various seats in front of a stage. 

“Y/N, Jake! I’m so glad you could come tonight,”  Emil said, walking up to the two of you, his arms wide open. You dropped Jake’s hand to give Emil a hug, squeezing him tight. “Congratulations, by the way. You’re just glowing with that newlywed bliss, eh?”

“Thank you,” Jake said as you pulled away from the hug. Jake shook Emil’s hand, looking the man over. “You clean up well. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day you wore a suit.”

“What can I say? The occasion called for it.” Emil turned, starting to walk towards the stage. “Come, come. The ceremony is about to begin.”

And so it did. Soon, the chairs were all filled. Some were your fellow Summer Twilights attendees—Jen, Dirk, Alejandro. Some were other mental health professionals. Some were journalists. But, every seat was filled, and every face looked eager. As the ceremony began, you stepped up to the podium, looked out at he crowd. 

“Good afternoon,” you said. “I first want to thank you all for being here today. Summer Twilights is a very important place for my husbands—” whispers fell over the crowd. Though your office had released a statement announcing you and the boys had wed during a private ceremony, this was your first time acknowledging the marriage in public. “—and I. This place, its attendees, and of course, Emil, have been so gracious to us. I don’t think it’s hard to imagine how hard I hit rock bottom in recent months. Everything I once knew had been turned up on its head. It was hard to wake up in the morning. It was hard to go about my day. It was hard to just…be. But Jake brought me here, showed me the kindness that still existed in the world. Emil accepted me here with arms wide open, lended me his shoulder to cry on, and gave his ears to listen to every doubt that crept into my mind. When I became Queen and it became time to announce my patronages, it was only natural that mental health services in general and Summer Twilights specifically were part of that. I’ve only known Emil for a short time, but I know he has big plans for this facility, which I know he’s eager to tell you.” You turned slightly, extending your arm to gesture where Emil sat on the stage. “Ladies and gentleman, I’m proud to introduce my friend, Emil Blonsky, who will share with you those brilliant plans now.”

The crowd clapped as Emil walked up to you. You gave him another hug, before letting him take the podium as you went to your seat. You sat beside Jake, grabbing his hand. You waited for Emil to begin.

Emil cleared his throat, looking at the crowd. He looked back to you and Jake, before looking at the crowd again. “It’s a bit hard to give a speech after the Queen, eh?” The crowd laughed. “Thank you all for being here. Never in a million years did I think I would be able to expand Summer Twilights as quickly as I have. This has been my dream for so long. For it to finally come to fruition…I never thought it would. It’s no secret that I’ve had a bit of a rough go at life. I was fortunate enough to pull through with the help of those around me. Ever since, I’ve been wanting to support others in their difficult times.”

Emil looked at you, smiling slightly. “When Y/N came to me and told me that she wanted to help me with this, I could hardly believe it. But, I knew she meant every word she told me. Y/N is the kindest, most thoughtful person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She cares, and she wants to make other people care, too. She is the kind of person who inspires me. She is the kind of person I think we should all strive to be. It has been a honor knowing her, and it has been an even bigger honor to accept her patronage. Because of her charity, I can now proudly begin the ground breaking for the expansion of Summer Twilights.”

Jake squeezed your hand. “You did good, dove.”

“You really think so?”

Jake looked at the proud look on Emil’s face, then back to you. “I mean every word.”

“Do you think the flowers should go there—” you motioned towards the small tables on either side of the doorframe “or there?” you pointed at the longer tables against the wall already adorned with intricate decorations. 

“Um…” Steven considered the two locations. “The tables against the wall? I know I’m likely to run straight into them if they’re by the door. Hate to knock them over, y’know?”

“Good point. Thank you, my love.” You kissed his cheek, then turned toward the workers who were helping you. “Place them on those tables over there, please. Just anywhere that has an open spot. I’m not picky about that.”

Pearl raised a brow at you as the workers scuttled about. “Not picky, hm? Need I remind you how long it took for you to pick out a secretary?”

Your face grew warm. “Well, I’m picky about the people who work for me. I don’t have a rhyme or reason for decoration. Don’t really have a good eye for it.”

Pearl laughed. “Just like your mother. She always said we could decorate the palace however we liked so long as it looked warm and inviting.”

“I’ve missed that. The palace always felt so cold after she passed.” You looked around the dining hall, considering the twinkling lights and shiny portrait frames and flowers galore. “At least things are starting to look up.”

“She would be proud of you, you know,” Pearl said. “For everything. How you stood up for yourself. How kind you are. How you’ve been helping those who are also hurt. She tried her entire life to shield you from Benjamin’s anger. She had known, though, that her time was close to an end, and she worried that Benjamin would snuff out your light. She’d be proud to know that you’re glowing brighter than ever.”

Your mouth twitched into a smile. You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around Pearl. She let out a quiet “oh!” in surprise before returning the hug. “Thank you. You have no how much that means to me.”

“It’s the truth.” Pearl pulled away. “Now go, relax a bit before getting ready for the dinner. We’ll make sure your vision comes to life.”

You thanked Pearl again before slipping your hand into Steven’s and leaving the dining hall together. 

Tonight, you were hosting a dinner as a way to thank all those who aided in your safety. It was a packed guest list, to say the least, but you couldn’t wait to welcome so many people into the palace. It had been oddly quiet—though, perhaps not that oddly. For a long while, there were threats against you looming in the air. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. But now…Now, life was starting to breathed back into the palace’s walls. 

Steven squeezed your hand as you walked the halls together, tugging you close. “You look happy, dove.”

“I wake up every morning in the arms of the men I love, knowing that I’m completely safe. The joy practically oozes from me.”

Steven let out a cough, shaking his head as he muttered that Jake made an inappropriate comment. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“So do you, my love.”

“Well, you know what would make me extremely happy? Us putting that big bed of ours to use while we wait for the dinner, eh?” Steven wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

And oh, you were more than happy to oblige.

A few hours later, you and Steven finally left the comfort of your shared bed and returned to the dining hall. Your sweet baby Cleo, who had spent the day lounging in the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows, jumped into Steven’s arms as soon as the two of you entered the room. You let out a laugh, shaking your head at Cleo. 

“You’re daddy’s favorite, aren’t you, hm?” you cooed, scratching behind her ears. She let out a meow! before snuggling further into his arms. “It’s okay, I’d be in your position too right now, if I could.”

“As if anyone who chastise you if you tried.”

You turned your head, seeing the familiar redhead entering the dining room. You smiled and pulled her into a hug as she neared you. “Natasha! I am so glad you could make it!”

“Well, when the Queen calls, you answer,” Natasha said. 

“Speaking of answering…I hope you don’t mind, but there’s someone I would like to introduce you to. Or, rather, re-introduce to,” you said, taking Natasha’s hand and tugging her toward the direction you’d last seen the blonde. 

“I have a feeling I’m going to have to oblige regardless of what I want.”

“No, no, totally your choice. It’s just…I promised your sister I would reacquaint the two of you.”

Natasha paused. “My sister…Yelena? She’s here?”

“She’s my advisor. She helped the boys in Operation Rescue Dove, as they like to call it. After it was over, I owed her,” you said. “She misses you.”

“I’ve missed her, too.”

Yelena looked like a deer caught in the headlights when she saw you and Natasha together. You had expected her to meet the two of you halfway when she saw you coming her way, but she was stuck in her tracks. It wasn’t until you and Natasha were right in front of her that she moved. 

“Nat?” Yelena said, taking a step closer to her sister.

“A little dove told me that she’d been tasked with reacquainting us,” Natasha said. She opened her arms. “If I had known you were here, I would have come sooner.”

Yelena stepped into the hug, wrapping her arms around Natasha’s waist. “You don’t read the tabloids?”

“After the first story run about me called me the Red-Headed Harlot of the Parliament, I decided it was best to avoid those sorts of publications.” 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” you said before slipping away. 

More guests began to arrive and you took the time to talk to them. This part of being a royal was a bit on the exhausting side. Painting on a smile, charming the people around you. At least with these people, though, you didn’t have to put on much of a mask. They knew you in varying degrees, but you knew them all well enough to know that they were safe. That you were safe to show your true face to them. 

As dinner was about to begin, workers setting out plates for all of the guests, you rose to your feet, a glass of champagne in your hand. You looked out at everyone sitting before you. Steven, Layla, Frenchie, Shang. Yelena. Nat, Wanda, Sam, Monica. Jessica, Matt, Foggy. Charlotte, Kieran. Emil, Jen, Dirk, Alejandro, William. Sweet Cleo. Every one of them had helped you get to where you were now. Every one of them helped you, even when some of them didn’t need to. 

You raised your glass. 

“I had every intent to make a long-winded speech about how I appreciate each and every one of you,” you said. “But I think we would be here all night and the dinner would be cold if I did that. Because all of you have done so much. When I thought all hope was lost, each of you helped me, showed me that there was reason to go on. Because of all of you, I no longer have to live my life being chastised, worrying about what the people who wished me ill thought. Because all of you, I can now know peace.”

Steven rose out of his seat, his glass raised, too. “And may that peace last forever and a day. Because we all know what happens when the dove is chastised.”

Your guests cheered, clanking their glasses against each other’s as you sat back down. Dinner began, but you remained unmoved. You wanted to savor this moment, have it forever imprinted in your mind. This was everything you ever could have wanted. Family, love, and peace. 

And no one would ever, ever take it away from you again.

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (13) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: the hearing begins, and things aren’t entirely what they seem. (but that is not a bad thing.)

word count: 3,980

warnings?: inaccurate depiction of legal proceedings, a plot twist perhaps, pet name (dove)

The longer you were gone from the palace, the more you realized that being a traditional royal was far from what you ever could have wanted. You always held a bit of disdain towards the position. You had attributed it to never being able to live up to Benjamin’s impossibly high expectations. The idea of sitting around, smiling just right, saying just the right words, going out and doing the sort of things that were noncontroversial… It bothered you. Being a royal did not come with many powers. But it did provide an avenue to bring about actual change. You couldn’t deny that what you did, people would follow. You’d seen enough businesses sell out of a particular clothing item after you were photographed wearing it to know that. If that was true for clothing of all things, did it not follow that if you advocated for policy change, people would follow? Granted, policy was far more controversial. But isn’t all change for the good? 

If all went well, if you did become Queen, you swore you would do something good with your position. 

But, with that thought, came the doubts. Benjamin was a crafty man. You couldn’t deny that. How else could he get away with hiding the illegitimacy of Kieran’s birth? How else could he hide away Kieran’s birth mother? How else could he have you poisoned? How else could he have you kidnapped? The more you thought, the more you were confronted with the very real possibility that Benjamin would remain king. That he would remain free. That Kieran would ascend to the throne. That you would live in fear for the rest of your life—which may be far shorter than you could ever anticipate if Benjamin had anything to do about it. 

It was hard to distract yourself from those sorts of thoughts. It was even harder with the hearing being so soon. It was the night before the hearing, and you were about to lose your mind. 

You were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting on the couch, watching the news. Cleo was curled up in your lap, nuzzling her head into your hand as you pet her. 

“Do you think they would say anything if I brought you with me?” you asked Cleo. 

She looked up at you, her wide eyes blinking slowly. “Mew?”

“Yeah, they might. I don’t think they would stop me though. I think I could get away with a lot considering it’s partially the Parliament’s fault that I was kidnapped,” you said. “Maybe if I cried, they would leave me be…It wouldn’t be difficult to start crying on command.”

“Why are you crying?”

You turned your head, watching as Marc entered the room. His hair was dripping from where he just got out of the shower. You swallowed hard, realizing he had opted to only wear a pair of boxes. 

“Thinking of manipulating Parliament into letting me bring Cleo to the hearing tomorrow.”

Marc let out a chuckle. He sat down beside you and pulled you close. Realizing that Marc had come over, Cleo rose from your lap and crawled into his. “Hi baby,” he greeted. 

“Traitor,” you pouted. Cleo turned to look at you and you swore she winked at you. “She loves you more than she loves the rest of us.”

“Steven wants you to know he’s offended you’d say that. Apparently, him and Cleo really bonded when he accidentally gave her a whole bag of treats.”

“That’s what happened to the treats?!”

Before Marc could say anything, your attention pulled back toward the news broadcast. A reporter was standing outside the Parliament building, talking about the hearing. “Tomorrow, we will finally get to learn what happened between King Benjamin and Princess Y/N. The week-long hearing will open with the Committee on Royal Affairs questioning the king himself. Most royal watchers expected the king to give his testimony near the end of the week, but as a spokesperson for the palace has shared, the king is eager to share his version of events without being slandered. The princess’s lawyers have also shared that the princess is eager to share her truth. She is set to testify on Friday. I will keep you updated as more information comes available. Back to you, Christine and Chess.”

“Wow,” Christine said, looking to Chess. “And I thought my family drama was intense.”

“It’s not fucking drama,” Marc growled. You looked at him, seeing the way his lip curled, his eyes narrowed. You imagined what Jake and Steven were saying—they were probably just as angry, if not angrier. “Who the hell sees everything he put you through and amounts it to family drama?”

“The kind of people whose job is to write headlines,” you said. 

“Tell me about it,” Chess said, laughing. “It’s unbelievable that the seemingly perfect royal family could dissolve so quickly.”

But it was never perfect. It had all been a façade. Every time you were in public, you were putting on an act. Every time you smiled and you laughed and you seemed so full of joy, it had all been fake. Nothing that the media saw was real. Couldn’t they see that? After everything that had happened to you in recent months, wasn’t that obvious? Though…The media certainly had its way of twisting stories anyway. If they acknowledged you’d been faking it, they might as well acknowledge they had had a major part in crafting that false narrative. Their credibility would tank. It was better for them to act like it was as much as a surprise to them as it was to the general public. 

You rested your head on Marc’s shoulder. It helped to be near him. It grounded you. Being around him made the bad thoughts run away. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Marc was safe. (And Steven was safe. And Jake was safe.) You were safe when you were with them. You shut your eyes, reminding yourself of that, trying to keep the panic from rising in your chest. 

“You want to know what my theory is?” Christine asked. 

“I think you’re going to tell me regardless,” Chess said. 

“I think it has to do with that fiancé of hers.”

Chess gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “No, I think you might be on to something!”

Seriously? Wasn’t this a news broadcast? Why the hell were they gossiping right now? Did they have no integrity? 

“Right? Think about it: The Royal Family was perfect until this Marc or whatever he decides to call himself comes along. No one even knew who he was! Did they seriously expect us to never know the princess was seeing someone? I bet he manipulated her, put a rift in the family. None of this would have ever happened if his crazy—”

Your eyes flew open and you snatched the remote from the coffee table, flipped the TV off. You didn’t like it when the media talked badly about your boys. And you certainly didn’t like it when your boys heard others talking badly about them. You could handle the media talking poorly about you. But your boys? No. No. They were good people. They were just misunderstood. 

You glanced up at Marc, tilted your head to press a kiss to his jaw. You’d make the kingdom understand. You’d help the kingdom see them through your eyes. You owed it to them after everything they’ve done for you. 

“They’re wrong about you,” you whispered. 

“They’re wrong about a lot of things,” Marc said. His voice shook slightly. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he wanted to talk about it, but he was standing up, pulling you up with him. He held onto your hand, squeezed it once, twice, three times. “Let’s get ready for bed. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“I’ll make them see the truth,” you said. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then two. Finally, he said, “I know you will. But some people will never believe you.”

That was what you were worried about. 

Members of the Royal Family could not be tried in a traditional court of law. It was a relic of the olden days before Parliament existed, and it was something that was rarely challenged. After Parliament had been formed and the Royal Family’s functions were limited, the early Parliament granted itself the ability to adjudicate on all disputes involving the monarchy. For the most part, the Parliament was rarely used for that purpose nowadays. But this was the first time in nearly a century a dispute needed to be settled. That made you nervous. All eyes would be on this hearing. One wrong move, and you would lose everything. 

You made sure to arrive early to the hearing. Matt and Foggy had advised you to. Said that it made it seem like you were being respectful of the Parliament’s time. You agreed because you knew if you went early enough, there wouldn’t be as many reporters swarming the building. Of course, you couldn’t entirely escape the mania, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. 

Walking up to the Parliament building, you kept your head held high. You fought against your every instinct in doing so. Foggy had said that you needed to appear confident, assured that this would go the right way. If you gave any indication of doubt, it might have a greater sway on the public opinion than you would like. Even if you won, you could still lose. It’s hard to win back the public if you lose their favor. 

Jake held your hand as you entered the building. He had insisted to be the one who would attend the hearings with you. Steven, bless his heart, would probably snap at the first instance of someone implying you had been less than truthful. Marc was only slightly less prone to snapping than Steven. Jake, however, was confident he could keep a lid on things. You didn’t really have a preference as to which of your boys fronted—you only wanted them to be there for you. 

And you were glad they were there. As people began to file into the room, you knew you were soon to be confronted with the people you feared most. And you were. Minutes before the hearing was scheduled to begin, Benjamin, Kieran, and Harrow filed into the room. Benjamin walked up to his attorney, Daniel Bukowski, shook his hand, before sitting at the table designated for the person to be questioned. 

Your heart sunk as you spared a glance at Benjamin. His back was turned to you, he was turned to talk to Bukowski. You were grateful Benjamin wasn’t looking at you. You didn’t want to crumple under his gaze (and you knew you surely would). How long had it been since you seen him? You tried to count back the days, but it was all a blur. So much had happened all at once. If someone told you it had only been a week, you might have believed them. 

You reached out, grabbed Jake’s hand. He squeezed it, reassured you that he was there for you. 

The members of Parliament who were conducting the hearing filed into the room, taking their seats at the front of the room. Sam was the last one to sit. As he took his place, front and center, he glanced at you, gave you a cut nod. At least you knew he would be on your side.

Sam, who was presiding over the hearing as Prime Minister, banged a gavel. “I now call this hearing into order,” he said. 

Here we go. 

“We begin with hearing from His Majesty, the King,” Sam continued. He looked to Benjamin. “If you would, please state your name and occupation for the record.”

You wondered if he was rolling his eyes, or if he kept his mask on, as he said, “My name is Benjamin Y/L/N. I am the King of our great nation.”

“Tell us about your relationship with your children, Your Majesty,” one of the members of Parliament, Wanda Maximoff, said. She looked to you, her gaze becoming more sympathetic. You knew she would be on your side, no matter what Benjamin said. She had lost both her husband and her two children in close proximity to each other. She had little sympathy for those who mistreated their family.

“We’re jumping right into it, huh? I figured I had few more softballs before we got into the more difficult questions,” Benjamin chuckled. No one laughed with him. “I cannot lie, my relationship with my son, Kieran, is better than that of my relationship with my daughter, Y/N. Kieran was always raised to be King. He and I were on the same page about what being a member of the Royal Family meant. He understood the sort of sacrifices we made for our position. Y/N, on the other hand…I wouldn’t call her a rebel, per se, but she didn’t have the same respect for the position. No matter how hard I tried to make her see, she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.”

You squeezed Jake’s hand. He leaned into you, whispering, “I know it’s hard. You’re doing so well.”

Wanda raised a brow. “I’m sure you’re aware that she has a better relationship with the public than you or the prince. That doesn’t exactly scream as disrespect. Please elaborate on what you mean by the lack of respect the princess showed for the position.”

Benjamin was silent for a moment—but only a moment. You supposed he wasn’t prepared to be called out so quickly. “I hate to say it, but it’s that relationship with the public that made her disrespectful. She cared more about how she looked in the public eye than putting in the work. She took the easy way out.”

“Did you not take the easy way out when you tried to position an illegitimate heir to inherit the throne?” Wanda asked. 

“An error in judgment,” Benjamin dismissed. 

“But would you not agree that it disrespected the position? There are few laws that govern who may become King or Queen. And yet, you violated one of the most significant laws. Two, actually, but we’ll discuss the other one later.”

“It was an error in judgment,” Benjamin said. “That is all I have to say on the subject.”

“It was a continued error in judgment, was it not?” Monica Rambeau asked. “You attempted to destroy every piece of evidence of your affair, you ensured that Kieran’s true mother would never share her story, and you allowed the kingdom to believe Kieran was the true heir to the throne for nearly three decades. Had it not been for the late Queen’s efforts, we might not have ever known the truth.”

“I backed myself into a corner. I was unsure of how to handle the situation,” Benjamin said. His shoulders were tighter. He was barely containing his anger. You let yourself smile ever so slightly. “If I was ever sure Y/N might be able to handle being Queen, I would have told the truth. Be that as it may, I couldn’t come out with the information whenever I chose. These kind of situations have to be handled with delicacy, or else everything the Royal Family stands for is undermined.”

Monica’s mouth quirked up into a sarcastic smile. “I suppose the princess isn’t the only one who cares about how the Royal Family is viewed by the public eye.”

“It’s different.”

“I don’t think it is,” Wanda said. “But let’s go back to that other law you had violated. As King, I’m sure you’re familiar with many of the laws of the kingdom, yes?”

“I take great pride in knowing every law in our land,” he said. 

“Then tell me, what was the first real act Parliament passed?”

Benjamin paused. He looked at Bukowski, who gave him a nod, then said, “If any member of the Royal Family attempted to kill, or succeeded in killing, an heir to the throne, then that member would be removed from the line of ascension. If the member was currently sitting on the throne, then Parliament would be able to remove that member from the throne.”

“After the princess’s assassination attempt, we investigated the cause. All evidence pointed to someone inside the palace.”

“Do you have a question, Ms. Maximoff?” Benjamin asked. 

“Why did you order your staff to give the princess poisoned wine when you knew doing so would have you removed from the throne?”

Benjamin glanced at Bukowski again. “You have no proof that I did.”

Wanda looked to you, then she looked to Kieran. You followed her gaze, seeing your brother looking over at you. He almost looked…sad? Troubled? You couldn’t understand why. Wanda looked back to Benjamin. 

“Not yet.”

Kieran once held his father on a pedestal. He thought the man could no wrong. And could he? Really? After all, who could tell the king what he could and could not do? If no one could tell someone what to do and when to do it, surely that meant someone was always right. Kieran always strived to be like that. He wanted his judgment to be respected, like his father’s judgment always was. Kieran wanted to be exactly like his father. 

He supposed that was his downfall. 

Kieran always believed that his father was right. That you were the black sheep of the family, that you didn’t respect the crown the way the two of them did. Whenever Benjamin disapproved of you and your actions, Kieran felt like he had to, as well. If he didn’t? Knowing what he knew now, Kieran shuddered to think of how Benjamin may have reacted. 

It made him sick to his stomach, thinking of how the horrible atrocities that have happened to you in recent weeks. He remembered when you were poisoned. He had only been a few feet away, dancing with Kate Bishop, the daughter of a member of Parliament. He watched as you crumpled to the floor, your fiancé (Marc? Or was it…what was it called? An alter? Was it one of the alters?) trying to catch you. Kieran had froze in place, watching in horror as Marc(?) tried to resuscitate you to no avail. People were shouting, then screaming, running from the ballroom, fearing that they might be next. 

That night, Kieran overheard Benjamin and Harrow talking. Benjamin had made a comment about the wine, saying that it had been perfect. But Kieran knew wine hadn’t been served—you hated wine. Your birthday was the only day you got to dictate what drinks were served, and you only ever chose champagne. You never would have let wine be served. It was then that the veil started to be lifted from Kieran’s eyes.

Everything went to hell after that. You, and a woman Kieran had never seen before but somehow still looked familiar to him, went on the news and revealed that Kieran was a bastard. Kieran should have been enraged. He should have been pissed. He should have wanted to bruise your ego as hard, if not harder, as you had bruised his. But he only felt sick. 

Benjamin closed ranks after that. Benjamin thought he and Kieran were on the same side. But the king didn’t realize the bastard was pulling away. Still, Kieran played the part Benjamin wanted him to play. If Benjamin was willing to poison you, what would he do to Kieran? At least being on the inside made Kieran privy to the sort of information that would ruin Benjamin. 

He only wished he knew Benjamin was planning to have you kidnapped and tortured. Benjamin kept that close to his chest—didn’t let anyone other than Harrow know that plan. But when Kieran saw the news, he couldn’t stop himself from asking (and recording Benjamin’s near-gleeful confession). It was then that Kieran knew he couldn’t let Benjamin get away with this. 

But first, he needed to talk to you…which he kind of regretted doing unannounced. 

Layla struck him the second he entered the hotel. No one even gave him a second look as he cried out, clutching his now-bleeding nose. 

“I deserved that,” he muttered. 

“You deserve a lot more than that,” Layla sneered, her lip curling. “After everything you did? You deserve to rot.” 

“I had nothing to do with anything that happened to Y/N,” he said. “I promise—which I know doesn’t mean a lot. But I have proof that’ll put Benjamin away for good.”

“Why are you here, then?” Layla asked, her brows knitting together. “Go to Parliament. Give them the evidence.”

“I will. I tell my story tomorrow, and I’ll give them everything I know then,” he said. “I just…I want to talk to my sister. I don’t want her to be blindsided by all of this. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves the truth.”

“She deserves peace.”

“Then let me help her get her peace,” Kieran said. “I just need five minutes. Then I’ll be out of here. I promise.”

Layla looked him up and down, assessing him, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or not. When she didn’t find anything suspicious, she conceded. “Follow me.”

He followed Layla to the back elevator, looking away as she input the code to access the elevator. It went straight to the top floor, opening to a single door across the hall. He looked back at Layla as he stepped toward it, who nodded, signaling for him to open the door. 

He did. He twisted the door, pushed open the door, and tentatively called out, “Y/N? I need to talk with you.”

The door shut behind him as he stepped more into the suite. It was huge, and Kieran didn’t know where to begin looking for you. But someone else found him first. 

Kieran hit the wall, the wind knocked out of him. Your fiancé (which one? Kieran wasn’t entirely sure) held him by the collar of his shirt, shaking him, nearly growling as he said, “Give me one good reason not to torture you like Dove was tortured.”

Dove? That’s what he…they?…called you? “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have a helluva lot more to do than just saying sorry!” your fiancé snapped. 

Then— you were coming up behind your fiancé, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away. “Don’t, Steven,” you said, your entire focus on Steven. (So, Steven was the British one, then.) “He’s not worth it. He doesn’t deserve your anger.” You glanced at him, then looked back to Steven. “He doesn’t have any of my anger.”

Steven let out a shuddering breath, before letting go of Kieran. He took a step back, then another one, pulling you into his arms. Steven pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He looked to Kieran and said, “Apologize, and leave. We don’t want you here.”

Kieran looked at you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. He didn’t expect you to. “I’m sorry. Father…Benjamin, he’s an intimidating man. I thought he was always right. It wasn’t until you were poisoned that I realized I was wrong about him and I was wrong about you,” he said. “And I know that doesn’t mean anything. No after all that’s happened. But, I’m going to make things right. I know things about Benjamin. Things that’ll get him removed from the throne. Things that’ll get Harrow locked away for good.”

“Are you actually going to tell or are you going to be a coward like Benjamin?” you asked. 

“I never want to be like him ever again.”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (12) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: the boys help you readjust. 

word count: 4,327

warnings?: a little angsty, a little fluffy, nonsexual nudity, pet name (dove), not proofread

Steven was grateful that you didn’t need to spend very much time in the hospital. When you were rescued, you looked (and he meant this will all the love in his heart) rough. He worried about the extent of your injuries, that Harrow caused far more harm to you than Steven would have expected. When you reached the hospital, though, the doctors found that you had a few broken ribs, a concussion, and other minor wounds. Though, the relief Steven felt was relatively short-lived. 

After you had been discharged, Steven became all too aware that your real wounds went much deeper than what the doctors at the hospital could diagnose you with. It was clear as day when he looked you in the eyes, saw the way they seemed to look just past everything around you. He knew that look all too well. He often saw it when Marc fronted, when Marc was confronted with the demons of their past. Steven had helped Marc work through those issues. And Steven swore, now, he would help you, too.

You, Steven, and Layla took a private elevator up to your hotel room. Despite everything, Benjamin was still king, and so your home was no longer safe for you. So, you still had to retire to the room given to you. As you passed through the threshold of the door, Steven saw the way your eyes became more glazed over, the way your shoulders slumped just a little more. Out in the real world, even after all that had happened in the last few days, in the last few weeks, you still had to hold a calm, collected composure in public. Here, in the safety of the four walls, you didn’t have to pretend to be okay. So you didn’t.

When you walked into the room, you made a beeline for the windows. Before Steven had a chance to ask you what you were doing, you had grabbed the curtains, tugging them across the floor-to-ceiling windows. Instantly, the room was cloaked in darkness. Steven spared a glance at a large mirror on the wall, seeing Jake and Marc watch you. 

Poor Dove, Jake said. He leaned forward, as if he could somehow get closer to you.

Do what it takes to make her happy, Steven, Marc said, turning his gaze toward him. I don’t like it when she looks this sad. 

Neither did Steven.

“I’m going to update the guards about the new procedures,” Layla said to you. “Will you be fine here with just Steven?”

Your shoulders raised, then dropped. “I don’t think I’ll be fine until Benjamin is locked up and the key is thrown away.”

Layla let out a low sigh. “I know. And he will be, soon. He’s practically signed a guilty plea with what he’s done.”

“We’ll see.” You started to kick off the shoes you were wearing, distracting yourself from the conversation. Steven, admittedly, was impressed with your choice in wearing heels. But when he saw the way you bent down, massaging at your soles, he realized you didn’t like wearing them that much either. “You can go, though. I trust Steven.”

He almost felt guilty when his heart soared at your words. It was entirely inappropriate, given the situation, but still, it brought him joy to know that you cared for him the way he cared for you. As you straightened back up, Steven reached out and grabbed your hand. “I’m grateful you do.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I’m grateful for you.”

“If you two weren’t so adorable, I’d be gagging,” Layla said before bidding her farewell and leaving the two of you alone.

Steven crossed the room and wrapped his arms around your body. You leaned into his touch, resting your head right over his heart. The longer he held you, he realized that you were breathing at the same pace as his heart. He held you a little tighter. 

“What do you wanna do, dove?” Steven asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We can watch a movie, order a bunch of room service…Cuddle? Rant? Read? Anything you want, I’ll do.”

You didn’t say anything for a long while. Steven was almost convinced you’d fallen asleep standing up. But then you lifted your head, looking at him, and said, “I’d like to take a bath.”

“Anything you want. I’ll go draw you a bath, yeah? I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

But when Steven turned to go to the bathroom, you latched onto his hand, walking alongside him. Oh. Of course you wouldn’t want to be alone right now. He should’ve realized that…

Don’t feel bad, Marc said. She knows you wouldn’t just leave her.

But do you? Steven thought back to the night before you were kidnapped. How you said you didn’t want to lose them. You wouldn’t say something like that if you didn’t think they would leave. And after everything Harrow had done… Steven shuddered at the thought of what Harrow could have said, could have done, to you. 

Before you were taken, Steven swore that he would make sure you understood he was in this for the long haul. That the only way he would leave is if you asked him to. Now, he knew he would do whatever it took to convince you. Because he understood that fear that people were going to leave him, that people were only there because they had to be. And he didn’t want you to live like that. He didn’t want you to live with that sort of anxiety.

You sat on the sink, watching as Steven filled the tub with warm water. Occasionally, he would ask if you wanted a bubble bath, if you wanted bath salts, if there was a bath bomb you wanted. For the most part, you let him pick. It broke Steven’s heart to see that glazed over, distant look in your eyes. 

Finally, though, the bath was ready. “Alrighty, need me to help ya get in?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. But then you raised your arms, signaling for him to help you take your shirt off. Oh, poor Dove. Steven reached out, pulling the soft, cotton shirt over your head. Your arms dropped back down, and Steven reached around to unclasp your bra. You let it slip down your arms, fall to the floor. Steven nearly cried when he saw the scars littering your body. He wanted to kill Harrow for this. But, to you, he cooed, “You’re a pretty little dove, aren’t you? Yes, you are!”

“You don’t have to lie.”

Without thinking, Steven leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. He pulled away slightly, letting his lips ghost just over yours. “I would never lie to you. None of us would. I can promise you that, dove.”

It didn’t look like you believed him, but you didn’t protest. When you didn’t say anything more, Steven finished helping you remove your pants and underwear, before leading you over to the tub. You dipped one foot in, then the other, letting out a quiet moan at the temperature.

“Too hot?” Steven asked, ignoring the tightening in his pants. Now wasn’t the time to think about all of your pretty little sounds. 

“Perfect,” you said. 

Steven’s chest puffed up a little. He liked it when he made you happy. He liked knowing that you enjoyed the things he did. It made him feel good, which wasn’t a feeling he felt all too often. 

“Do you want me to stay in here, or would you want to be alone for a little while?”

Your head whipped to look at him, your eyes wide and bewildered. “Don’t go!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” he said quickly. Shit, he didn’t expect that reaction. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable, dove.”

“…then could you join me? Please?”

“I would love to.”

Steven shed his clothes, adding them to your pile of clothes on the floor. Then he stepped into the tub. Instantly, he mirrored that quiet moan you had let out when you got in the tub. Steven wasn’t really a big bath person, but this? With you? He saw the appeal.

When Steven was sat in the tub, he was surprised to find you climbing onto his lap. You wound your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close. This was nice. Steven liked having you so close to him. It made him feel safe. It made him feel like he could keep you safe. 

Sparing a glance at the mirror, Steven found Marc and Jake looking longingly at you. It made Steven feel a bit more prideful, that he was the one who got to hold you. Of course, he was fine to share you with the others. But sometimes, it was nice to know that he got to be the one to be there for you. 

But then—

“If you want to leave, you can,” you whispered. It was so quiet, Steven was almost convinced he imagined it. But then you continued— “I know this was a lot. That this is a lot. It’s not what any of you signed up for…If you want a get out of jail free card, you have it.”

Tell her we want to stay, Marc said. 

Make sure she believes you, Jake added. 

“Look at me, dove,” Steven said. You lifted your head, looking at him. Your brows furrowed, your eyes brimming with tears. Steven lifted his hand, caressing your face. “We want to be here. All of us do. Okay? Yes, this is more than we could have expected. But we wouldn’t have done all of this for you just for us to run away. We love you, dove.”

You blinked. “You…love me?”

“We love you. I love you. Jake loves you. Marc loves you.”

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, a choked sob escaping. 

Steven froze. Had he done something wrong? Was it too much to say he loved you? Was it too early? Had he overstepped your boundaries? Oh, bugger, navigating a relationship is hard. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Steven asked. “I’m sorry—”

“I haven’t heard that since my mom—” you sobbed harder. “I love you too, Steven. I love you all.”

Steven leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Get ready to hear it every day for the rest of your life, dove. Because we love you so, so much.”

And he meant it. And he would say it every day until you knew he meant every word, and he would say it for every day after. 

You seemed a little more alive in the days that followed coming home from the hospital. Well, at least, that’s what Marc told himself as the two of you hid out in the hotel room. Because Layla was busy coordinating your new security detail, it was just you and him most of the time. Marc was grateful for that. After you had been taken, Marc was so sure he had lost you for good. That wasn’t a kind of heartbreak that Marc could stomach very easily. Now that you were safe and sound, he felt he could relax. But, in the same vein, it worried Marc to see you now. You were so much quieter, so much more closed off. Even when you and him didn’t start off on the right foot, you had still been shining and happy and warm. Now, it was like all the life had been evaporated from you. It scared him to see you like that. Especially when he didn’t know what to do to make it better. 

It only got worse as it got closer to the day you needed to meet with Foggy and Matt. Marc understood. With everything that happened, a lot of legal implications were revealed. And with those legal implications came a time when you would have to relive the worst parts of your life over and over and over and, worse yet, a group of people who would never truly know you would just those horrible moments. It was a whole different type of psychological torture. You didn’t deserve it, but it was something you had to go through if you would never know peace.

You didn’t talk much the morning of the meeting. Marc didn’t, either. The two of you showered in silence, ate breakfast in silence, got dressed in silence. But as he watched you get dressed, tucking a white button down into a pair of black dress pants, you started to paint back on the image of the princess. It almost gave him whiplash to see how well you could mask your true feelings.

Had you always been doing that? Had you always been so sad, so broken? He supposed you had. Marc never interacted with the king very much, but he could only image how horrible the man was to you based on the limited interactions Marc had with him. 

We need to do something nice for Dove, Steven said. 

Already got a plan, Jake said. 

When did you have the time to make a plan?!

I don’t ask about what you do when you front. You don’t ask me about what I do. 

“Almost ready, dove?” Marc asked, deciding it was better to ignore the bickering. 

You looked over at him, almost startled. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Let’s go, then,” he said, holding out his hand.

Slipping your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together, the two of you left the hotel room. The walk to the elevator was silent. Marc really didn’t like the silence. For a moment, he was almost grateful that he had Steven and Jake bickering to keep him distracted. But, then, as the you and him reached the elevator, Marc realized you were talking.

“Keep your temper in check,” you whispered, picking at your shirt. “They’re going to be vultures. Don’t give them a reason to run a story.”

Marc got the feeling you were talking more to yourself than him. He squeezed you hand, once, twice, three times. I love you, he was trying to say. He hoped you understood. It was harder for him to get the words out. He wasn’t like Steven. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. He was never allowed to. But, for you, he was willing to try. You lifted your head. “You’ll be fine, dove. I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“You can’t promise that. You don’t know how far he’s willing to go. Benjamin’s already made himself out to be the villain. He’ll take everyone down with him if he’s given the chance.”

“Then I’ll make sure he never is given the chance.”

For the first time in a while, you gave a genuine—albeit small—smile. Progress, Marc supposed. Baby steps. 

But the smile disappeared when you both reached the lobby and you saw the swarm of paparazzi outside. Marc dropped your hand. For a moment, your face dropped. He was quick to wrap his arm around you, pulling you close against his side. 

“I know you feel like you still have to be a perfect princess,” he said, “but you don’t owe them anything. You’re allowed to keep your head down, not say anything. They don’t deserve even a single wave. Okay?”

“It’ll be worse if I don’t play the part,” you said. “The princess’s fall from grace…”

“They’ll run whatever headline they want to run.”

You chewed on your lip, considering his words. Then— you nodded, turning your gaze to the ground, letting the mask drop. Marc led you out of the hotel, his grip on your waist tightening as the paparazzi swarmed you. 

“Back off,” he snarled, lifting his free arm, using it as a bar to keep them away from you. “Vultures, all of you.”

Can we fight them?, Steven asked. If they can’t respect Dove’s boundaries, we shouldn’t respect theirs. 

Not the time, Steven.

Your eyes squeezed shut as Marc helped you navigate the crowd. God, it took everything in him to not act out. Couldn’t they see how much you were struggling? Were they really that desperate for a fucking headline? Did they not realize how cruel they were acting? 

Finally, finally, Marc and you reached the car. Why did the driver have to park so fucking far away? Especially with a pack of vultures waiting to descend upon you! Marc ground his teeth together, trying to calm himself. He needed to keep a level head for you. 

The ride to Nelson & Murdock was, thankfully, drama-free. It almost felt like the car had just teleported to their office. Even better, though, there was no paparazzi waiting for you there. So, the walk in was almost peaceful. 

“The Prime Minister just informed us that a hearing has been scheduled,” Matt said as the two of you settled in the chairs across from the two lawyers. “He wants to expedite this whole process. Still follow the proper procedure, of course. But this all reflects horribly on him, so he wants it dealt with swiftly.”

You stared blankly at the top of the desk. Marc reached out and grabbed your hand. You squeezed it, tight. “I don’t if I should be grateful or full of dread.”

“It’s okay to feel both,” Marc said. “You’re allowed to feel both.”

“It just…It feels wrong to wish for my…for Benjamin to fail like this. I know he deserves it, but…He’s family.”

“He’s not your family,” Marc said. His chest tightened, images of his childhood flashing behind his eyes. He took a breath, trying to remain calm, trying not to cry. “Family doesn’t try to kill you. Family doesn’t make you feel like shit. He stopped being your family a long time ago. And you are absolutely entitled to celebrating his downfall…But that guilt? About feeling grateful? I know that feeling. And I know it hurts. I’ve been through that alone, but you don’t have go through it alone. Jake, Steven, and I…we’re all here for you.”

You stared at him, then slowly raised your hand, pinkie finger extended. “Promise?”

He hooked his pinkie with yours. “Promise.”

“Let’s go out, dove,” Jake said. 

You lifted your head from the mountain of pillows you’d buried yourself in. “I would rather wallow.”

Jake climbed in the bed, climbing over you. He straddled you, sitting back on the back of his legs, careful to not crush you, reaching for your hands. “C’mon, you’ve been wallowing for days now. And you deserved every minute of that. But you will never feel better until you start going out into the real world again.”

You stared at him, unblinking. Then, you let out a sighed and conceded, “I suppose some fresh air would be nice.”

Jake smiled. That didn’t take as much convincing as he thought it would. He tugged on your hands, willing you to follow him. As you started to climb out of the bed, he said, “I’ve got just the perfect place in mind.”

You titled your head, curiosity clear in your eyes. “Do I get a hint,” you asked, “or is it a complete surprise?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jake laughed. “But it’ll be a good one, I promise. Just gotta trust me, yeah?”

You pouted, but didn’t push further. You padded over to the wardrobe, considering the clothes you had available. While you decided on an outfit, Marc asked,  Do we get a hint?

No.

“How should I dress?” you asked. 

“Comfortably,” Jake said. “Don’t wear your nice clothes.”

You flipped through your clothes again. “I don’t know what comfortable means,” you mused. “In clothes. In life. Well, actually, that’s not true.”

Jake came up behind you, reaching and grabbing a simple t-shirt and presenting it to you. You smiled up at him, grateful. 

“I feel comfortable around you,” you said, changing out of your pajamas and slipping on the t-shirt. You paired it with some jeans. “And Steven, and Marc. You all make me feel safe.”

You better bloody kiss her or I will— Steven said. 

He spun you around, caressing your face. Jake always liked to take a moment to admire you before he kissed you. It felt even more important now, after being so close to losing you. He committed your eye color to memory, made a map of the little freckles on your face. Jake wanted to remember it all. Especially the way your mouth started to quirk up in a smile. That smile deserved a permanent spot on your face, and Jake was committed to making sure it always was there. He leaned in, kissing you softly.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“And I love you.”

He could never get sick of hearing that. 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“Lead the way, my love.”

Oh, that was almost better than hearing you confess your love. He (and Marc and Steven) were your loves. For a man who thought he would never get to experience something like this, it meant a lot to him.

Jake kissed you again, then one more time. Okay, okay—another time. Then, he took you by the hand and led you out of the hotel. 

Thankfully, he had learned from the earlier mistake of going out the front. Granted, Marc didn’t have much of a choice. There was nowhere else for the driver to go. Everyone had been vying for the first look at the princess since you were kidnapped. It was safer for you to go out the front, as opposed to the back where some of the seedier paparazzi were. Now, though, the crowds had dwindled significantly. Yes, there were still several out there, but it had dispersed enough for Jake to feel comfortable taking you out the back. 

“Did you already call a driver?” you asked. “How could you be sure I would agree?”

“Actually, I was planning on driving,” Jake said. 

Both of your eyebrows shot up. “That’s…not allowed,” you said. “We could get in trouble.”

“We’ll deal with the consequences later, dove,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “Let’s just have fun, yeah?”

You hesitated. He expected as much. The king had done a number on you, after all. Jake was ready to tell you that you deserved to do something without thinking about the consequences when you slid into the passenger seat and buckled in. Jake let out a chuckle, shutting the door, and going to his side.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he reached out, took your hand, running his thumb over the top of your hand. “You’re gonna love this, dove.”

“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

Oh, it was unfair how you made butterflies flutter around his belly. 

“I’ve never ridden in the front, you know,” you said as Jake drove closer to the location. 

“Oh?”

“It’s supposed to be barrier to keep the royals from the common folk,” you said. “That’s what Benjamin always said, anyways…I kinda like it up here, though. Do…Do you think we could do something like this more often?”

Jake smiled, pulling into the parking lot. “Of course we can, dove. Just tell me when you wanna go out, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You looked out the window as he pulled into a parking space. “…like an animal shelter?”

“Mhm.” Jake got out and walked over to your side. He opened the door, extending a hand to help you out. “Got a friend who works here. They, uh, unfortunately euthanize some of their animals who’ve been at the shelter too long. I was talking to him the other day, and he said there was a cat who was gonna be put down.”

“How is me watching a cat be put down supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, no, no!” Jake said. “I was thinking we could adopt the cat! They’re good emotional support pets, you know. And the way he talked about the cat, I thought she would be perfect for you.”

Your mouth started to quirk up at the corners. “It always takes me by surprise when I learn you boys think about me.”

“Of course we think about you. We love you,” Jake said. “Let’s go in, yeah? Meet your new friend.”

Your smile widened. Jake and you walked up to the shelter, Jake opening the door for you to walk inside first. His friend was waiting at the front. 

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head. “Jake. I’m glad you guys could come in. I think Cleo somehow knew she’d be going to a new home. She’s been so excited all day.”

“Can we meet her?” you asked. 

“Of course. Follow me,” he said, leading you and Jake to where Cleo was kept. 

Cleo was a beautiful Egyptian Mau. She was gray with black spots and bright green eyes that watched you closely as you approved her. She let out a meow, practically jumping on you when you knelt down to pick her. 

“Oh, hello, pretty girl!” you cooed. “Hi! My name’s Y/N, and this is my fiancé Jake. We wanna take you home today. You wanna come home with us?” You laughed as she nuzzled closer to you. “I’m excited to bring you home, baby. We’re gonna have so much fun!”

Not bad, Jake. Not bad, Marc said. 

I wanna play with the kitty, too, Steven said. 

“You like her?” Jake asked. 

“Love her,” you said. “My mom used to have a cat when I was little. She was a tabby named Nutmeg. Cleo reminds me of her.”

“Then let’s bring her home, dove.”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (11) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you are saved. but it’s not over quite yet. 

word count: 2,492

warnings?: vague descriptions of fighting bc i can’t write fight scenes lmao, angsty, a shorter chapter, pet name (dove)

You felt numb. The kind of numb you felt when your mother took you to the carnival and let you sit in the dunk tank, when the ball struck the target and seat fell out from under you and all you felt was water so cold you forgot what it felt like to just breathe. With every breath you took, you were convinced it would be your last. That it was all over. Worse, perhaps, you thought that it was better that way. 

At least you wouldn’t hurt anymore if you were dead.

There was a bang! on the door. Your heart skipped a beat. Was Harrow coming back? Had he thought of another ingenious torture method? You wished he would just end it. You knew Benjamin wanted to break you, but hadn’t he already done that? Weren’t you already broken before you were kidnapped? Hadn’t he already done enough to damage you, make you think you were worthless, every day of your life? Was all of this necessary to prove his point? You already knew he would never love you. You already knew he hated everything you did. Wouldn’t it be more cruel to kill you without all of this fanfare? 

Bang!

You flinched, trying to shimmy yourself further into the chair you were bound to. You knew you couldn’t escape whatever was coming for you, but dammit, you didn’t want to die. Even after everything that had happened, even after everything you’d been through, you would rather live than die. It’s just…Well, if you were going to die in this basement, you could accept that. You could accept that the man who was torturing you will be the man who would kill you. If you were going to die now, you just wanted it to be done quick.

From the other side of the door, a voice cried out. That wasn’t Harrow. Or, at least, you couldn’t imagine Harrow screamed like that. Who could that have been? Was this the new torture method? To hurt someone else so that he could hurt you? Bile rose up in your throat. That was so much worse. It was one thing to hurt you. It was another thing entirely to hurt an innocent.

(Because, yes, you believed everyone involved to be an innocent. You didn’t know everyone’s circumstances. You didn’t know everyone’s motives. But you knew enough about people to know that they were all being influenced by circumstances outside of their control. Even Benjamin. You didn’t want to admit it, but he had some innocence to him, too. Royal families aren’t reared to love. They’re reared to rule. If he thought his power would be delegitimized, he would do what it took to mitigate that. You didn’t like it, you didn’t respect it. But you understood it.)

Creeeeaaaaaak!

You lifted your head, your eyes squinting as you looked toward the doorway. A body slumped over the threshold. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. Was the person dead? Would Harrow kill someone to get a rise out of you? (Probably. Definitely. Still, it was startling to see it happen right in front of you.) 

“Get Dove. I’ll hold ‘em off,” a gruff voice spoke. 

…no. 

That couldn’t be. 

…Could it? 

A woman stepped through the threshold, her heavy boots clunk-ing on the concrete floor. She walked quickly to you. You shied further into your chair. Had Harrow sent her? Sent her to lure you into a false sense of security? You wouldn’t put it past him. 

But as she knelt in front of you, her eyes scanning over you, you didn’t feel any reason to fear her. Perhaps that was wrong of you. She did carry the energy of a person who could kill. But she didn’t seem the type to kill you. 

“My name’s Yelena,” she said, undoing the binds on your hands. “I’m friends with your fiancés. We’re here to get you out of here.”

Your heart paused. They came? They still cared? Perhaps you had died. Maybe this was your paradise—the ability to fantasize that they came for you. That they wouldn’t leave you behind. That they wouldn’t let you get hurt. Or maybe this was hell—that you would be taunted and teased for all eternity to that you cared for people who would never care for you in the same way. That you would be told that your fiancés came, that they would pretend to let you go, that you would be taken into an even worse torture chamber until the end of eternity. 

But that thought hurt your heart too much, so you chose to believe you had gone to paradise. 

 “They came for me?” you asked. Your voice strained as you spoke. It hurt to speak. It felt like someone had carved out your vocal cords and forced you to talk so they could laugh at your misery. Maybe this was actually hell. 

“It’s the only thing they’ve cared about,” Yelena said, bending down more, undoing the binds on your ankles. You wanted to believe her. “C’mon, I got you. I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? Just lean on me.”

Yelena reached out, hoisting you up, throwing one of your arms over her shoulder, her gripping your waist as the two of you slowly trudged out of the basement. You tried to not groan too much, but the pain was unbearable. It felt like all your joints were cracking and were ready to buckle in as the two of you made your way up the small flight of stairs into the main part of the building. Yelena didn’t seem to mind, though, telling you encouraging words along the way. 

But…Where were your fiancés? Yelena said that they had come for you. If that was true, then why weren’t they the ones helping you? Maybe they only came out of obligation. Maybe they didn’t actually care. But Yelena had said saving you was the only thing they cared about… Had she been lying to spare your feelings?

Was this all part of the torture? 

As you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn’t stop yourself from squinting your eyes, turning your head down to face the floor, a whine escaping you before you could stop it. Shit, that was bright. And it wasn’t even that bright, really. Early morning, as far as you could tell from a quick glimpse you got from a window, where the sun hadn’t yet reached its peak. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Yelena said, continuing to guide you. All around you, you were the sounds of fighting—punches being thrown, things being broken, the grunts and yells of people. You weren’t convinced you were okay. 

Then—

A pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from Yelena. Because your eyes were squinted, you couldn’t quite see who grabbed you. You let out a gasp, trying to wriggle away. You forced yourself to open your eyes to look at your assailant and— 

Was that the valet at the hotel? 

He certainly looked familiar with his dark hair and dark eyes. You certainly had seen him before. 

“Sorry, Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head slightly. So…not an assailant? “Saw someone coming for you and had to pull you out of the way.”

“Oh—thank you,” you said. Your voice was still croaky. It hurt to speak. You paused, unsure of his name. 

“Xu Shang-Chi, ma’am,” he said. 

“Thank you, Shang-Chi.” You looked back at Yelena, seeing her throw a punch at a man twice her size. He easily crumpled, falling to the floor, moaning in pain. She looked at you, shouting at you to go. You looked back to Shang-Chi. “Can you get me out of here?”

“Of course,” he said, wrapping an arm around you to steady you on your swaying feet.

Together, you continued to make your way through the house. It was much larger than you would have expected. Or maybe it was the fact that time felt like it was moving slower that made you feel like it was a huge building you were having to walk through. Though, there was certainly a lot more people than you were expecting. Just how many people had Harrow brought in to torture you, to hold you captive? Was all of this really necessary?

Did Benjamin really hate you that much?

Did he really want you gone that badly? 

What had you done to deserve this? 

And—

Was that Matt? Your lawyer, Matt? Wearing a mask that covered half of his face? Fighting alongside Layla? Did your fiancés really bring a blind man to a fight? (Though—he was fighting quite well, if you were being honest. He was, after all, keeping up with Layla quite well.) And, worse, perhaps, did he really think that flimsy mask did anything to obscure his identity? 

Before you could even begin to ask Shang-Chi about why Matt was there, you saw him. You had never seen him look so angry. It might have been unsettling. That is, if you had the capacity to feel anything at the moment. Your mind was still so hazy, you didn’t quite process the fact that your one of your fiancés was bashing in Harrow’s face, another man behind Harrow, holding him in place.

A sudden strength overtook you, pulling away from Shang-Chi and stumbling straight towards him. In almost slow motion, his head turned, his eyes going wide as he looked you up and down. Then, a smile broke out, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he ran towards you, scooping you up in his arms. 

“Dove,” he breathed out, cradling you against his chest. 

“Jake,” you said softly. You couldn’t believe he was here. That this was all real.

“Frenchie!” said the man holding Harrow. 

Jake pulled away, pouting at your whine, to glare at the man. “We’re trying to have a cute reunion here,” he said. He looked back to you. “That’s Frenchie, one of my best friends.”

You raised a hand to wave, flinching at the wave of pain that washed over you. “Hi.”

“Hi!” he said. He paused, taking a glance around the room. All of the opponents, it seemed, had been defeated. “I think it’s time to roll out now.”

Jake gave a curt nod as everyone started to gather around. Layla reached you first, joining yours and Jake’s hug. She wished a quiet “I’m so glad you’re alive”, squeezing you tight. Behind her was the masked Matt and Jessica. Shang-Chi and Yelena were still walking up, Yelena seeming to look out the window at what lay outside the building. 

“How much trouble do you think we’re about to be in?” Shang-Chi asked. 

“Trouble?” you echoed, peering at Jake. 

His cheeks flushed. “We weren’t exactly supposed to be doing this. But I couldn’t wait for the idiots in charge to act. I had to make sure you came home safely, dove.”

“Thank you,” you said. You looked at everyone. “And thank all of you, too. I promise, if I have anything to do with it, you won’t be given any trouble for this.” You looked back at Jake. “I’m ready to go home.”

He nodded, and he lead you out the front door. It was much brighter outside than it was inside. You raised your hand to shield your gaze from the sun. Still, you tried to get a good look at everything that was happening. There were three helicopters—one unmarked, one with the news station’s name, and one labelled with the police department’s name. A number of people were gathered, some reporters, some officers. 

A reporter and cameraman reached you first. The reporter pushed a microphone to your face, asking, “Princess, would you care to—”

Jake snatched the microphone away and threw it as far as he could manage. “You’re a real fuckin’ dick if you think Dove’s gonna want to talk right now after everything she’s been through.”

Then, he steered you away, trying to lead your towards the unmarked helicopter. But, again, people had things to say. One of the officers—the chief of police, you realized as you got a closer look at his badge, came up to you. 

“Your Highness, let me start by saying we are so glad that you are okay,” he said. 

You stopped in your tracks. Was he serious? Jake, reluctantly, paused in his pursuit of the helicopter, letting you stare the officer incredulously. “Is that really how you wish to start this conversation?”

“Your Highness, none of us could have expected this to happen—”

“You should have! You knew there was an investigation into Benjamin and how he tried to kill me. You should have realized he wouldn’t stop,” you said. “Instead, you twiddled your thumbs and let me be a sitting duck—”

“There’s no need to be so emotional, Your Highness—”

Before you could blink, a punch was being thrown. If Jake didn’t have such a tight grip on you, you would have thought it was him who threw it. Instead, you realized, it was Frenchie, one hand firmly clenched into a fist, the other holding onto a near-unconscious Harrow. 

“Don’t you dare,” Frenchie snarled. 

The officer held his nose, trying to see if he was bleeding. He looked to you, and said, “Your Highness, we think it best if you come with us back to—”

“With all due respect, which is none,” Jake said, cutting the officer off, “we’re not going to let you anywhere near Dove. We’ve done what you couldn’t. We’ve kept her safe. And we’ll be the ones to make sure she safely arrives at the hospital.”

The officer raised his brows. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you turned towards the unmarked helicopter and began to limp towards it. Jake surged forward, his arm snaking around your waist, letting you shift your weight onto him. Behind you, you could hear Layla talking to the officer about Harrow, saying that she would be going with them to make sure that he was actually locked up. You were grateful. 

When you got to the helicopter, Jake helped you on, helping you to get situated in your seat. He sat next to you as the others got on the helicopter, too. You looked back at them, your brows pinching together. 

“Don’t you have to be questioned by the police?” you asked. 

“Fuck them,” Jessica said. 

Matt jumped in. “Our priority is making sure you arrive safely. All other procedural matters will be dealt with later.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you turned back around. Perhaps things weren’t so bad after all. Perhaps there was still good in the world. You looked at Jake, who had reached over and took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your hand. Yeah. Things weren’t all bad. 

You shut your eyes, and you rested. 

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (20) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: things get better. 

word count: 4,029

warnings?: benjamin, pet name (dove), not proofread

After the threat made its way into your hands, security at the palace increased tenfold. Well, actually, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Security had increased, sure. But not enough that it would draw attention from the public. The threat needed to be taken seriously, but you, Yelena, and Layla had agreed that word could not spread that you were taking the threat seriously. To do so would give credence to the people who wished to hurt you. They may do bigger, more dangerous things. You couldn’t afford to take such a chance. So, you did things quietly. Layla increased the training security personnel would go through. A few more guards were added to the rounds. More thorough logs were made of who came in and who went out of the palace, of who got very close to the palace. And you…You had decided that it was time to add two more personal bodyguards to your team. 

You had kept just who you were hiring close to your chest. You knew immediately who you wished to hire, and you had extended them the job offer as soon as you made the decision to expand your team. But they hadn’t yet accepted. You didn’t want to go blabbing about who you wished to hire until you were sure it was a done deal. Which, of course, meant that you hadn’t told your fiancés who specifically you had your eye on. They were miffed, and you understood. You had no real reason to not to tell them beyond superstition. But this superstition had a strong hold on you, and you couldn’t figure out any way to loosen it. 

“I worry that there’s no amount of personal guards you can hire that would keep you completely safe,” Marc said.

You looked at him. Marc was sat on the corner of your desk, his back to the door, fully facing you. You reached up, placed your hand on his knee. You rubbed your thumb back and forth. “I can’t deny that. But I also cannot deny that just having Layla by my side will suffice. I’m in a far more public position. There are more eyes on me and, where there are more eyes, there are more targets.”

“Then I’ll go everywhere you go,” Marc said. “Yelena, too. That’s already three people. How’s that any worse than you hiring two complete strangers?”

“Because you and Yelena can’t always be with me. A personal bodyguard is hired for the explicit purpose of being by my side at any and all public engagements. I would be remiss if I thought it appropriate to shoehorn my fiancés into such a position.” You reached for Marc’s hand, bringing it to your mouth. You pressed one, two, three kisses to his knuckles. “Besides, who said I would be hiring two strangers? You should know I only hire people are, first and foremost, qualified, but second, people who I can trust. I can’t afford anything else.”

Marc’s brows furrowed together. His head tilted to the side, an almost confused puppy look on his face. “I don’t understand.”

Knock! Knock!

Instead of answering Marc, you called out, “Come in!” Marc rose to his feet, turning towards the door as the two men you’d offered the job to walked inside your office. “My love, I believe you’re familiar with Jean-Paul DuChamp and Xu Shang-Chi.”

Shang-Chi took a step forward. “You can just call me Shang, Your Majesty.”

“Only if you agree to not use the formalities, Shang,” you said. You looked back to Marc. “See? I wouldn’t be so foolish as to hire complete strangers.”

Marc let out a laugh. “And what I don’t think they’re suitable for the job?”

“Oh, so we’re suitable for a rescue mission but not the full-time position?” Frenchie teased. He threw an arm around Marc’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “Come, now. You have no reason to be so bitter.”

“I’m not bitter!”

“If you were ground up and turned into coffee, you would be a dark roast,” Shang said. 

Marc turned to you, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare. “You only hired them so you would have more people to gang up on me.”

“Hmm, that was only a bonus,” you said. “Besides, they haven’t formally accepted the job yet. So you might just get off scot-free.”

“Woah, woah, woah—” Frenchie said. “I’m definitely accepting the job. Have to take every opportunity to get on his nerves, yeah?”

A smile stretched across your face. You stood and walked around your desk, wrapping your arms around Frenchie. “I’m so glad! When you get the chance, you’re going to have to tell me all of the embarrassing stories I know you’re holding on to.”

“What? No!” Marc protested. 

Shang took a step forward. “I might not have any embarrassing stories to exchange, but I’d also be more than happy to be one of your bodyguards.”

Marc narrowed his eyes at Shang. “Well, I’m going to be sure not to do anything embarrassing in front of you then.”

“You should avoid him outright then, my love.”

“You’re lucky I love you too much to pretend to be mad at you.”

You let out a laugh before clapping your hands together. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, your training starts tomorrow morning. I’ll send over information on where to report to and when my this evening.”

“Shouldn’t you have a secretary for that?” Shang asked. 

You let out a groan. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Shang held up his hands in defense, but laughed before bidding farewell. Frenchie hung around for another moment, teasing Marc a little more, before he left, too. With them gone, you turned to Marc, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his. A contented sigh escaped your lips. 

Could you stay like this forever? Forget everything and just be? Just be with Marc and Steven and Jake? You were grateful to be Queen, to be able to use your position to do good. You felt an obligation to make up for all of Benjamin’s wrongdoings. But…Well, you couldn’t lie. This wasn’t something you exactly wanted. You had often dreamed of getting out of this whole mess. Of living far, far away from the palace. Of having a simpler life. 

“Do you want this?” you asked Marc. 

His brows pinched together. “Dove, we’ve talked about this. We want to be with you—”

“No, no, not that. Just…Do you want to be Prince Consort? Was this something you wanted? I-I know that you had probably expected living far away from here. Not having all of these responsibilities and obligations and duties. I just…I just want to know this is something you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

“I know that—”

“And if that means we have to take on a few more roles than just husband and father of our children…Well, we don’t mind. We just want to be with you, dove. It doesn’t matter what else comes along.”

But you weren’t satisfied with that. Doubts still tickled in the back of your mind. You couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about a hypothetical future where they would finally get sick and tired of this life and leave you. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But…when the one family member who loved you was dead and the only two family members you had left spent years treating you like the scum of the Earth, it was hard to believe that someone genuinely cared enough to stay. 

Marc leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re here for the long haul, dove. I mean that. Steven means it. Jake means it. You’re going to have to throw us out yourself if you want us to go, and even then, we’ll still want to be by your side.”

“I just worry.”

“I know. But I can promise you, we want to to be with you no matter what.” Marc kissed the tip of your nose. “Now, c’mon. Let’s look at those secretary applications. Who’ve you got it narrowed down to?”

“Well, I was looking at this one guy. He doesn’t have a ton of qualifications, if I’m being honest. But he’s gotten out of prison a few years ago—hey, don’t give me that look! If you looked at his file, you would know that it was more of a Robin Hood sort of thing. You know, steal from the rich, give to the poor. And it was warranted! The company he worked for was scamming its customers, and he was trying to do something right. Besides, he’s a divorced father and he needs to support his daughter—”

“Sounds like you’ve already made your decision, dove,” Marc teased. 

“Oh, just look at his application, would you?”

You nearly laughed when the letter wound up on your desk. Of course, you understood why he might have thought that a letter was more appropriate than perhaps a text or call (or even an email!). But, still, it seemed almost silly in this day and age to write a letter than to use something more technologically advanced. Though, you supposed that might have been more Benjamin’s doing than anything else. Benjamin preferred the more traditional things life had to offer. And Kieran was a sponge, soaking up everything Benjamin gave him. 

Still, you appreciated the letter for all of its silliness. It read:

Y/N, 

I am not entirely sure where we stand, so I apologize if I am out of line in sending this to you. After your testimony at Benjamin’s hearing, I didn’t know if you wanted to speak to me again or not. While I am still unsure, I know that I cannot go on without at least asking if you would like to reconnect. We’ve lost many years of a potentially good relationship because of Benjamin. I would hate if he continued to divide us from behind bars. However, if you would rather rip this letter to shreds and forget I was ever a part of your life, I understand. If you would like to reconnect, please let me know.

Best, 

Kieran

The letter remained unanswered on your desk for two days after its receipt. You had, of course, known what you wished to say, but you struggled with putting the pen to the paper. Kieran had aided in Benjamin’s horrible treatment towards you for so many years. It was a difficult thing to forgive. At the same time, Kieran had shown that he wanted to make up for his wrongdoings. You believed him to be genuine. You wanted him to be genuine. While you had found a new family, you still craved a relationship with the only blood relative you had left. Like Kieran, you wanted to at least try.

So you did. 

You sat on a bench in the garden, Cleo curled up in your lap, purring contentedly as you pet her. Kieran was to arrive at any moment. You fought the urge to bite at your nails. The nerves were getting the best of you. A bit of paranoia was beginning to set in. You life, after all, was still being threatened. How were you to know if Kieran didn’t play a role in that? Could you trust him? How were you to know that this wasn’t some elaborate scheme to finish what Benjamin couldn’t?

“I’m surprised you responded to my letter.”

You lifted your head, watching as Frenchie walked with Kieran.

“If I’m honest, so am I,” you said. Cleo jumped off your lap, so you took the opportunity to stand. “Things are still…tense.”

“Have the threats begun?” Kieran asked. 

You sucked in a breath. Well, at least that suggested he, too, had been threatened while he was the heir apparent. “More than started. Most had been intercepted, but one made its way into the palace. Yelena and Layla think its tied to Benjamin. Yelena has been investigating Benjamin, and she thinks that he’s trying to send out a warning.”

Kieran’s brows furrowed together. “Investigating him? He’s already locked up.”

“He has other crimes to pay for. I’m not the only person he’s hurt. He needs to answer for his wrongdoings.” You turned, starting to walk down the path. Cleo padded alongside you. After watching you for a moment, Kieran jogged to catch up before walking in step with you. “We plan to make an announcement of the investigation this week. Get more eyes on it all, you know. If people know that he’s done more wrong, they’ll be looking out for things. It’ll make it more difficult for his co-conspirators to operate in secret. Or, at least, that’s the intent.”

“So that’s why you hired more guards, I suppose.”

You hummed. “That, and it doesn’t make sense for me to only have one personal guard with as public a position as this. Even without the threats, there’s no reason for me to be naïve about all of this. People will hate me just because they think I stole the Crown from you. Some of them may be bold enough to act on their hatred.”

“I understand. Well, perhaps not to the same extent. Your situation is far more complicated than mine would have been,” Kieran said. “I know that you didn’t really get any guidance on how to do all of this, but…Well, if you have any questions, I can try to help. I don’t know how helpful it would be, since my training was all tainted with Benjamin’s hidden agendas, but I would do my best to aid you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you,” you said. “How have you been holding up? With everything happening here, I hadn’t considered that you were effectively homeless after I moved back into the palace.”

“It hasn’t been easy. I moved in with a friend from college who had a spare room, and I’ve been trying to find a job. It’s gone as well as you might have expected. People don’t want to hire an ex-prince who, whether he wanted to or not, inadvertently aided in the attempted murder of the Queen. But I did manage to get a few interviews coming up, so I hope it goes well.”

“If it doesn’t, I might be able to find you something to do in the palace.”

“There is a secretary position still open,” Frenchie teased. 

“Oh, I sent out an offer!” you protested. 

“Color me surprised.” Frenchie sent you a playful wink and laughed. 

Kieran said, “I appreciate that. While we’re on the topic of adjusting, how have your fiancés been holding up?”

You let out a sigh. “I think it’s been difficult for them, but they insist that it’s fine. I just know that none of this was what they had bargained for in terms of responsibilities, and then you add in the public opinion of us being together…It’s just a lot. We did an interview with Karen that’s supposed to come out soon. You know, to make it clear that I love them and the naysayers aren’t going to change that. I worry, though, about it being taken out of context. There’s nothing I can do about that, of course. But I just don’t want to make it harder for them.”

Kieran reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “I’m sure it will turn out fine. I think you underestimate how much the public adores you.”

“How long with that last? I don’t want to rely on that and then something happen and it all come crashing down. We’ve seen how the tides can change so easily.”

“You’re also a lot different than past Monarchs. I don’t think you can rely so heavily on past precedent.”

“I suppose not,” you conceded. “Thank you. I get so wrapped up in my head that I lose sight of it all.”

“Mother was the same way. But she always managed to see things through to the end, and so will you.”

You smiled, reaching up to where Kieran’s hand still rested on your shoulder and squeezed. 

“…and, speaking of mothers…If I’m out of line, tell me. Mother will always be my mother, you know. I can’t change the fact that she was the one to raise me. But, I still wonder what it would have been like if Charlotte had been allowed to stay. How things may have been different. But I know nothing about her, so I have nothing to base it off of.”

“Would you like me to introduce the two of you? I had been hoping to have a family dinner soon. You know, if this meeting had worked out, of course. It wouldn’t be any trouble for me to invite Charlotte.”

Kieran smiled. It struck you that you hadn’t ever really seen him smile before. Not really, anyways. Not genuinely. It looked nice on him. “I would appreciate that.”

The two of you continued walking. You looked straight ahead, avoiding Kieran’s gaze, and said, “In the spirit of…having conversations, I was thinking that a big one is still needed.”

“With me?”

You shook your head. 

It dawned on Kieran what you meant. “Oh.” 

“I just thought I would give you the chance to talk me out of it. I know I’ll be hearing a lot of that, and I didn’t want to deny you your fair opportunity.”

“I don’t think anyone could talk you out of anything,” Kieran said. 

“I suppose you’re right.”

“As your advisor, I advise you not to do this.”

You looked over at Yelena. Her face was unreadable, but you could hear the concern laced in her voice. She was good at concealing her emotions, though sometimes it still bled through. “I need to do this for my own peace. Besides, consider it an opportunity to inspect his cell while I’m talking with him.”

Yelena hummed. “I still don’t like it.”

You knew she didn’t. You knew that no one was really keen on you coming here. Well, no. That wasn’t true. You looked over at Marc, who was sitting beside you, his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Your fiancés understood. Marc, perhaps, most of all. When you told him of what you wanted to do, he gave you his full support. He would want to confront his mother, too, if he was given the chance. Even if it completely ended in disaster, at least you could say you faced your fears and came out the other side. 

“I need to do this. There is no safer way to do this than how I am now.”

“You trust the government officers? After all that’s happened?”

You raised a brow. That was a low blow. She didn’t need to sink so far. You kept your tone even, didn’t reveal the hurt you felt, as you said, “Of course not. But I also have my fiancés, you, Layla, Shang, and Frenchie all by my side. The only way I would be safer is if Matt and Jessica were here, too.”

“Perhaps we should give them a call and see if they’re available.” At your annoyed look, Yelena said, “I just don’t you to be put in a position where you could be hurt. He’s unpredictable. We can’t trust that he won’t find some way to act out.”

“I’m aware, and it is a risk I’m willing to take. I appreciate your advice—it is why I hired you, after all—but I need you to trust me to exercise my best judgment. If there was a single inkling of doubt in my mind that this would be more bad than good, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Yelena didn’t say anything more. You appreciated that. You knew that she still didn’t agree—the look on her face was evidence enough of that. But at least she knew that you weren’t budging on your position any more than she was. You had bigger things to deal with than arguing with your advisor when neither you nor her was willing to concede. 

Arriving at the jail was a bit of a blur, if you were being honest. You only paid half attention to the entire process. You didn’t exactly want to remember all of this, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to be attentive to every little detail. 

You and your entourage were led into a near-empty room. A couple of the jail’s guards stood by the doors, watching Benjamin closely. He was sat alone at a table, looking oddly smug for a man in an orange jumpsuit. You reached out, grabbing Marc’s hand, as you approached the table. You sank into the seat. Marc sat beside you. 

“Benjamin,” you said. You looked him over. He looked as horrible as he was. His skin had lost some of its color. You supposed that happened when someone’s only allowed an hour of outside time a day. He’d seemed to have lost some weight, too, with the way his jumpsuit seemed to hang off his body. But worst of all, you think, was the look in his eyes. He looked almost like a mad man. “I hope jail life has been treating you as well as you deserve.”

“It’s been better now that the little dove has flown right back into the cage,” Benjamin sneered. 

Marc tensed. You squeezed his hand once, twice, three times. He squeezed your hand back and kept his tone measured as he said, “You have no right to call her that.”

“No one was talking to you, boy.”

“Don’t you dare,” you said. You struggled to keep your anger at bay. You knew why he was doing this. He was trying to get a rise out of you. You refused to give him the satisfaction. “You do not get to act like this anymore. You don’t get to push me and the people I love around anymore. Okay?”

“And you don’t get to come in here, acting high and mighty like a little priss just because you wear the Crown. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” Spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. You fought the urge to cringe.

The corner of your lip twitched. “No, I don’t suppose I know what you’re capable of. But you don’t know what I’m capable of, either. You’ve spent my entire life with a very specific image of me in your mind. You’re too simple-minded to understand that I’m not the little brat you think I am. There is a reason you failed. There is a reason you’ll continue to fail. You’re going to be locked up for a long, long time, and you’ll have to live with the knowledge that I am going to be everything you prevented me from being.”

“We’ll see. There are very bad people in this world. I would…hate to see what would happen if one of those bad people acted on their whims.”

“I’m sure you would. We all know your true feelings. We all know your true motives. You can’t behind this façade anymore.”

Ding!

You pulled your phone from your pocket. It was jail policy that visitors weren’t allowed to bring their phones in, but you were granted an exception. You couldn’t be more grateful, because now you got to deliver the news to him personally.

“Well, would you look at that! Looks like the kingdom is learning just how rotten to the core you really are,” you mused, flipping your phone around for Benjamin to read. “Involvement with sex trafficking? Benjamin, really, that’s no way for a King to act.”

“You little—” Benjamin lunged for you.

Frenchie surged forward, grabbing Benjamin by the collar of his jumpsuit. “If you think this will go over well with the sentencing hearing, you are sorely mistaken.”

Benjamin nearly growled as he looked at you, his eyes even madder. “If you think this is over, you’re mistaken.”

“No, I think I would be right. There is nothing you can do to hurt me anymore. You will never get that satisfaction again. I won’t let you.”

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (18) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you begin your work.

word count: 2,926

warnings?: a shorter chapter, brief panic attack, honestly not a very good chapter but sets up for the last leg of the series, pet name (dove), not proofread

The press had a field day when they found out that you were going to Summer Twilights with Jake. It was almost as big of a deal as when they found out the two of you had foregone an official driver and that Jake had driven you himself. Jake ranted for at least an hour when he saw the headlines. (“It’s just ridiculous, dove! They might as well have reported that you sneezed and threw a tissue away! How can this seriously be considered news?”) You, however, were not surprised. Even in this day and age, open discussions about mental health were always…well, not welcomed at large. That’s not to say it didn’t bother you. Of course it did. In your opinion, the media should be focused on the transfer of power, on the well-anticipated trials for Harrow and Benjamin. But, of course, it was often the sillier things that received the most attention. 

Still, you were not going to let the attention stop you from continuing to go to Summer Twilights with Jake. It did, however, mean that Layla attended with you to protect you from any potential threats, and that you had to start taking an official driver again. You hated it, but there were some battles you chose to lose if only to maintain your sanity. At least you still got to go. At least that wasn’t being taken away from you. So, you grit your teeth and powered forward. Everything would work out in the end. 

You sat between William and Dirk in the circle. Emil had said that it was good to not always sit by Jake. Healing was a journey, and it was a journey you should take with the others. There is much to be learned from others who are struggling, too. That way, you don’t become codependent on others. You understood Emil’s point, but you did miss sitting beside your fiancé.  Still, you focused on listening to the others share and be vulnerable with each other. 

Being there made you feel better. Even though you didn’t share this time, it made you feel like things were going to be fine. Perhaps it was because of the vulnerability of it all. For the last several years, you had so few outlets to express yourself without fear of being punished for it. A life like that had left you with a fair amount of baggage. It was…a relief to be able to finally unpack it all. To be able to sort through it all, to acknowledge the pain it caused you, to just talk about things you were taught to keep hidden—it was everything you could have ever wanted. You could only hope that everyone would have an opportunity, have an outlet, like this.

Or…could you do something more? 

When the meeting ended, you found yourself still glued to your seat. The idea, it had been something you had been considering ever since the idea of becoming Queen became closer to being a reality. After Jake brought you to Summer Twilights, it became a little firmer in its foundation. Now…It felt like it might actually be something you could bring into fruition. 

“Is everything okay, dove? Do you need something?”

You looked up, jumping slightly as you realized Jake was kneeled in front of you, concern etched clearly on his face. “Sorry, was just lost in thought,” you said. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to get up. 

“Good thoughts, or bad thoughts?” Jake asked. 

“Complicated thoughts?” you said. “It could go either way, I think.”

Your attention was drawn away from Jake as you heard Emil’s footsteps head your way. You looked at him as he approached you. He stopped a few feet in front of you and waved his hand, motioning at one of the chairs beside you. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” he asked. 

You nodded and watched as he took the chair, moving it so that he would be sitting across from you. Jake followed his lead, taking a chair on the other side of you and moving it to form a mini three-person circle. 

“You look troubled,” Emil said. “Is it something you want to talk about?”

“I really enjoy coming here,” you started. 

Emil smiled slightly. “I’m glad. I, and everyone here, like having you here. But I don’t imagine you look so troubled just for coming here.”

“It’s been so long since I had a place where I could talk about my feelings without being chastised for it,” you said. “I appreciate that I have this place to go, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about how not everyone has a place like this. I…As Queen, I have the opportunity to be the patron of organizations of my choice. I can give them funding, and amplify their ideals. I don’t…I don’t mean to impede on any plans you have for Summer Twilights, so I’ve been struggling to figure out how to ask this but…Would you like my patronage? So that you might be able to expand and bring in people who need a safe space like this?”

Emil’s jaw dropped for a moment before he started to compose himself. “What?”

“After everything I’ve been through, I’ve realized how little I had in terms of support. And now that I have it, I can’t believe I made it this far with next to nothing. I don’t want other people to have to experience that struggle. Being able to come here has been incredible, and I would like for these sorts of doors to be more open to the rest of the kingdom.” You paused. “If I’m overstepping, please let me know. I don’t want to step on any toes here, not when you’ve provided a space for me to come and speak without fear.”

“I know you don’t care for the formalities,” Emil said, “but, Your Majesty, it would be an honor to have your patronage.”

You let out a breath. “Really?”

“Being able to expand, being able to help more people, is all I ever could have wanted,” Emil said. “I thought it might have been a far-fetched dream, something that would take years to come to fruition if it ever did. Your support…It would mean everything to me. I think it would mean everything to everyone here.”

A smile started to stretch across your face. “Oh, I’m so excited! I…will try to hire a secretary as soon as possible, and reach out about more of the official things this will mean. Thank you, Emil. Thank you.”

You stood up, and Jake and Emil followed. You reached out, shaking Emil’s hand, before bidding farewell. Together, you and him walked across the room to where Layla stood, Jake’s hand resting on the small of your back. 

“You’re incredible, dove,” Jake said. 

“What did she do now?” Layla asked with a smile. 

“She’s changing the world, that’s what’s she’s doing,” Jake said. 

“Oh, stop it!” you said. 

Jake shook his head, giving you a smile. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll never stop telling you how amazing you are, dove. Get used to it.”

“How is it finally being Queen?” Jake asked, kicking off his shoes as the two of you settled in your bedroom. After some reshuffling in the palace, you and Jake had finally been moved to the north wing. Your room now had a beautiful view of the gardens below. Sometimes, before you had to leave to attend to your duties, you found yourself standing in front of the window, watching the wind whip through the grounds, the plants bending to its will. “You haven’t spoke much about how everything has been affecting you.”

Jake came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. “It’s more than I thought. I knew that I would have many responsibilities, but I didn’t realize the full extent of it all. I’m still trying to get my head on straight, just trying to take it one day at a time.”

Jake hummed. He leaned, pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Want to rant about it?”

“No, no, that’s alright,” you said. You pulled away slightly, turning around so that you could face Jake. You couldn’t help the smile that started to curl across your face as you looked at him. God, how could you ever be so lucky? You reached up, caressing his face. His eyes fluttered shut. “I would rather talk about you, my love. How are you doing? I know none of this was what you signed up for. I know the attention has been…less than ideal.”

“Dove, you know that I don’t mind. None of us do,” Jake said. 

“Not even when the press villainizes all of you?” you asked.

He paused, looking almost like he had been struck in the face. Your heart clenched at the look on his face. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. But, you felt like this was something that needed to be discussed. You didn’t want feelings to fester, to burrow deep inside, until it one day blew up in both your faces. 

“It…does hurt,” Jake finally said. He shut his eyes, nuzzling his face into your hand. “I know their opinions don’t matter, that they’re only providing stories that provide attention, but it makes me feel like we could never be good enough for you.”

You dropped your hand so that you could hold both of Jake’s and gently tugged him toward the bed. You sat on the mattress, propping yourself up against the mountain of pillows. Jake laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. Combing your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, you urged him to continue.

“I want to say something, to make them see why you care for us just as much as we care for you,” he said, his voice slightly muffled against your shirt. “But I worry that we would say the wrong things, that it would become much worse. That they would find more reason to hate us for being with you.”

“I’ve wanted to do the same,” you admitted. “I don’t care when the press speaks badly of me. I’ve seen the highs and lows of it all for my entire life. I know you all haven’t had that same experience, and I want so badly to defend you from it all. But I also know that speaking out often gives them more ammunition. We would have to be so, so careful about what we said, because the media loves to pick up a word or two and twist them so far out of context that our intentions are lost. And yet…silence is just as bad. Soon, I worry the media will begin to berate us for never saying anything, for letting them continue this abhorrent behavior.”

Jake let out a sigh, burrowing his head further in your chest. The two of you stayed like that a long time, him cuddled up to you, you running your fingers through his hair. A word was not shared for a long few minutes. Neither of you really had anything else to add. You pressed a kiss to the top of Jake’s head. 

“I…I think if we did speak out, I think we should give the one interview. Have it be pre-recorded, nothing live. I think Karen would be our best bet,” you said. 

“Mm, that wouldn’t be the worst,” Jake mumbled.

“Let’s give it a few days thought, okay? We don’t need to rush into anything. We shouldn’t rush into anything,” you said. 

“Okay,” Jake said. 

Thump… Thump… Thump…

You clenched and unclenched your fists as the driver navigated the crowd that had gathered. This was going to be fine. It had to be fine. In front of you, Yelena shifted in her seat, her clothes squeaking against the leather. You looked up at her. She was already looking at you. She watched you the same way a child watches the fishes at an aquarium.

“Is everything alright, Yelena?” you asked, your voice tight. You were half-convinced your vocal cords would snap soon. 

“I think I should be asking you that, no?” she said. She tilted her head, looking you up and down. “I haven’t ever seen you quite like this.”

You swallowed hard. You glanced at Layla, who was seated beside Yelena, watching you. “I think we jumped the gun on this.”

“Do you want to cancel?” Layla asked. “We still have time. You just have to give the word.”

“Her public image is fragile right now. Cancelling will not do her any favors,” Yelena said. “She may have the public opinion in her favor for now, but it won’t take much for it to sway the other way. We have to treat every situation with precaution.”

“Yelena’s right. We have to go on,” you said. 

It was your first public outing without your fiancés by your side since you had become Queen. The two of you had agreed that you needed to do some things on your own, show your independence. Besides, if they came, the media would focus more on them than what you had to say. And this event…Well, you would say it was one of your most important ones. Every King or Queen offered their patronage to causes that mattered to them, and those causes would be announced at the start of their reign. Today, you would announce yours. The last thing you wanted was for those important causes to be overshadowed. 

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. 

Thump.. Thump. Thump. 

Thump.Thump!Thump!

Thmp!Thmp!Thmp!

“Dove…Are you okay?” Layla asked.

You tried to speak, but your words caught in your throat, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, tears stinging in your eyes. Fuck, why was it so hard to breathe? It felt like you were breathing in through a straw. Every breath you took, it felt like your throat was constricting more and more. 

Layla moved to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. She held you tight, squeezing, shushing you as you grew more and more panicked. “You’re okay, dove. Don’t worry about saying anything, okay? Just focus on your breathing. Okay? In, hold, out. In, hold, out. That’s good, dove. Keep that up, okay?” she said, rubbing your arm up and down. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say as your breathing steadied. 

“Don’t apologize, dove. There’s a lot going on. Anyone else would have snapped a lot sooner,” she said. “You’re impossibly strong, dove. But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the weight of it all.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. Your heart started to steady back into its regular rhythm. A wave of guilt washed over you, fresh tears pricking in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to hold it together.”

“Y/N, if there’s anyone who’s allowed to lose it, it’s you,” Yelena said. She leaned over, placing a hand on your knee. “Losing it doesn’t mean you’re weak. Alright? Look at how far you’ve come. You needed a moment like this. You cannot bottle up your feelings. You have to let it all out.”

You mulled over her words, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” The car lurched to a stop, and your attention was drawn back to the crowd gathered outside. You swallowed hard, looking back at Layla. “Do you think I can do this?”

She squeezed your hand. “I know you can.”

You took a deep breath. “Then let’s do this.”

Layla gave you a smile as the car door opened. She stepped out first, clearing the way for you. You took another breath before sliding out of the car, painting on an almost perfect smile. You waved at the hoards of people, pausing to answer a few questions as you walked up to the building. Yelena and Layla walked on either side of you. You were grateful to have them by your side. You still worried you might find a way to embarrass yourself. 

And yet, you got to the building without a hitch. You were ushered behind the stage that was set up, conferring with one of the event coordinators. In the main room, you could hear the people talking amongst themselves. You swallowed hard, thinking about the speech you were to give, thinking of the dinner that would follow, thinking of how you wished that your fiancés were with you. But you set those worries aside. 

You had a job to do. 

The event coordinator went on before you, announcing you to the crowd. A hush fell over them. You stepped onto the stage. Your heels clicked as you walked. Click. Click. Click. You made it to the podium. Your hands gripped the sides. You smiled to the crowd. You took a deep breath. You began—

“I am proud to announce my patronages for the duration of my reign.,” you said, hands clutching the edge of the podium. “These causes are near and dear to my heart, and it only makes sense for me to use the resources at my disposal to support them. Starting today, I will support education, art, animal shelters, and, perhaps the most important of them all: mental health services.”

And all was well. 

[starryevermore]

do not chastise the dove (21) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: things get bloodier. 

word count: 2,919

warnings?: a shorter chapter, major character death, mention of sex trafficking, pet name (dove), not proofread 

“—life in prison without parole.”

Jake held your hand as Sam read out Benjamin’s sentence. You let out a breath. Jake knew this wasn’t the time to be offering you comforting word. He knew the media would have a field day if they saw the two of you talking during such a serious time. So instead, he offered you the same comfort Marc often did—he squeezed your hand once, twice, three times. 

If Jake was honest, he thought the sentencing hearing was more of a formality than anything that was particularly necessary. Everyone knew that Benjamin deserved to be thrown in prison and have the key thrown away. But Parliament did have procedures to follow, and so the hearing was held anyways. As the victim of Benjamin’s crimes, your presence was encouraged. You had considered not going, but…Well, even if the hearing was a formality, you had to see this through to the end. You had to make sure that Benjamin never got to see the light of day again. 

Sam banged the gavel on the podium. Benjamin was taken away. The crowd of reporters and spectators rose, talking amongst themselves. You remained where you sat. So did Jake. 

Finally, he asked, “Is everything alright, my dove?”

“I just can’t believe it’s over.”

Harrow had entered a guilty plea just as his trial was set to the begin. Jake figured that the man could see how the tide was turning, that there was hardly a juror in the kingdom who could view his actions in a sympathetic light. Everyone, after all, had seen Benjamin’s trial. They had heard about what Harrow had done to you. They had heard how he tortured you, made you wish you were dead. Even if Harrow could come up with a defense…Anyone with a couple of braincells knew it wouldn’t be enough for a jury to return a verdict of not guilty. 

You looked at Jake. Your eyes were glassy. They seemed to be glassy most days. They were only ever full of peace when the two of you (or Marc or Steven) were in the privacy of your shared bedroom. “I don’t know what to do with myself now. What am I without this torture? Without this pain?”

“Well—” Jake hated to bring it up, but…Well, he didn’t want you to have a false sense of security. Not now. “—there are still the threats that haven’t been dealt with yet.”

“I suppose. But I will be dealing with those sorts of threats for the rest of my life. But Benjamin…I will never have to deal with his torture again.” You let out a sigh, before rising out of your seat. Jake, and your security detail, followed. “I need to say one more thing to Benjamin before he’s taken away.”

Jake nodded and walked with you out of the building. Layla walked on the other side of you, sending a message to the guards escorting Benjamin to not take him away just yet. Jake squeezed your hand again. He didn’t like the idea of you speaking to Benjamin again. He didn’t like the idea of the man being close enough to hurt you again. But…You had to do what you had to do to feel at peace. Jake wasn’t going to deprive you that. What right did he have to do that? All he could do was go with you, support you, make sure you were as safe as possible. 

Benjamin was watching you as you came out of the Parliament building. Jake held your hand a little tighter. He knew something was coming. He knew that Benjamin wasn’t going to go away quietly. There was a reason you were still being threatened, and Jake was damn well sure it was because of Benjamin. 

A crowd had gathered outside the building. Some journalists who couldn’t make it into the actual proceedings, but mostly fans of the monarchy. Or, well, fans of you. The booing and jeering directed at Benjamin swiftly switched to cheers when the spectators saw you descending the marble stairs. You raised your free hand to wave, smiling at them. Jake raised his hand, too, giving a small wave. 

The crowd didn’t react to him. At least, not as strongly as they did to you. Jake didn’t really expect anything, though. The interview had yet to be released—they were still putting the final touches on it. A lot of the public was still wary of him, of the others. They probably always would be. But Jake didn’t want to give them any more reason to hate them. 

“Come to see your poor father off?” Benjamin asked as you neared him. 

“You’re no father of mine,” you said. “You never asked as a father should, so you don’t deserve to be called one.”

Benjamin stuck his lip out into a pout. “You’re breaking your poor, old man’s heart.”

“Good.” You paused, looking him over. “I have to ask: how does it feel, knowing that everything you’ve ever worked for has been destroyed? That the legacy you leave behind is marred by every horrible thing you’ve done? That everything you tried to prevent came to fruition?”

Benjamin stared at you. Jake didn’t like the look in his eyes. There was something sinister there.  Something darker than usual. “Not nearly as bad knowing that everything you’ve worked for will soon be over.”

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Benjamin said nothing, his eyes flicking over your shoulder. Jake turned, following his gaze. Panic struck his chest as he saw the glint of metal in one of the windows. A shot rang out. Time moved in slow motion. Jake rammed his body against yours. You hit the side of the prisoner transport vehicle. Jake shielded your body with his.

Blood splattered on your face. It splattered on your white suit. It was a stark contrast, something that made Jake wanted to throw up. Had he moved fast enough? Had he saved you?

Not hers, Steven mumbled. It’s not hers. 

Your nails dug into Jake’s arms. You lifted your head to look over his shoulder. An ear-shattering scream escaped your mouth. Jake held you tighter. Chaos erupted around you. Frenchie was pulling Jake off you. Layla was helping you to your feet. Shang had gone off to stop the sniper from getting away. Yelena was trying to hide the body from your sight.

But Jake could see it clear as day. The pool of blood. The red color staining the orange jumpsuit. The brain matter that now decorated the side of the vehicle. The former king was now dead. 

The former king had been shot. 

The former king had been shot with a bullet intended for you. 

Was this what peace was supposed to be like? 

You had said barely a word in the last week. It worried Steven. It worried them all, actually. You had never been so quiet before. Even when the worst possible things had happened to you, you still wanted to talk. You still had things to say. Now…Now, it was like the life had been sucked out of you. 

Steven had you cradled against his chest as you laid in bed together. You had taken the day off, the demands of your job too hard for your soft heart right now. You felt guilty, Steven could tell, even if you didn’t say the words. You didn’t mourn Benjamin, but…Well, it was almost you. It was almost him. If Jake hadn’t moved when he did…Steven shuddered at the thought. You hadn’t been so close to immediate death before. It hurt. 

“We can still cancel the dinner if you like, dove,” Steven said. 

In order to honor your promise to Kieran, you had planned a family dinner between you, the boys, Kieran, and Charlotte. It was supposed to be a nice, celebratory thing, something for all of you to bond over, after Benjamin and Harrow were put away. Now, it almost felt more like a wake. 

You shook your head. “I have to do it for Kieran.”

“He’ll understand. What happened…That’s nothing anyone should experience. He’ll understand if you need more time to yourself.”

“But it will hurt him.” You sniffled. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You can be selfish, dove,” Steven said. He smoothed a hand over your hair, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “What if we…I don’t know, made it a pajama party or something? Something where you didn’t have to dress up and put on a mask?”

You were silent for a moment. Then— “I would like that. I would like that a lot, actually. Thank you, Steven.”

“Anything for you, my dove.”

An hour later, you had left the safety of your cocoon in your bed. Rather than a pristine dress that you would’ve worn the entire day, you were dressed in a pair of sweatpants that you’d stolen from Steven and an oversized sweatshirt. Instead of dressy shoes, your feet were adorned with little bunny slippers. You looked miserable and comfortable all at the same time. All Steven wanted to do when he saw you was drag you back to bed, convince you to postpone the dinner for another day. But you wanted to do this, so instead, Steven wore his own pajamas and went to the dining room with you. 

Charlotte and Kieran were already seated when you and Steven arrived. You paused in your step, looking at the two of them. “I didn’t realize you two were coming so soon. I would have been down here sooner if I had known.”

Charlotte waved her hand, dismissing the thought. “Don’t worry about it. We only got here a few minutes before you.”

You sucked in a breath, ready to argue back, but Steven was surprised to see you only nod and walk to your spot at the head of the table. Steven followed and took the seat beside you. As he sat, he said, “It’s nice to see you both again. I hope you have been doing well. You know, all things considered.”

Kieran spoke first. “It’s been…strange. I almost expected to be more upset about Benjamin’s death. But when I heard news, I just felt…I don’t know. Relieved? Is it wrong to say happy?”

“You can definitely say that here,” you said. “I think I’ve felt worse about not feeling bad at all. That I was relieved it wasn’t me, that it wasn’t my fiancés. When I think about him, though, that he’s not around, it almost feels like…”

“Peace?” Charlotte offered. 

“Yeah. Peace. It feels like I can breathe again.”

Kieran nodded. “I never realized how much he was strangling me until I got away. When I look back on what I’d considered good memories, I realize how much I was walking on eggshells. You know, trying not to upset him so that he didn’t take his anger out on me.”

Your brows pinched together. “I didn’t know he ever took his anger out on you.”

“Neither did I. It was a lot more subtle than how he treated you. But when I look back on it, I remember how he would always make sure I knew that even at my best, I could never be as good as him. How he would push me to do my best even when I was at my breaking point. I thought he was just trying to make me be my best.”

“Instead, he was just a dick,” Steven said. 

Kieran snorted and raised a glass in a toast. “Here’s to the dead dick.”

You raised your glass. “May he suffer now and forevermore.”

When you looked at Steven, you smiled for the first time in a week. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, leaning in, and stealing a kiss. He hated it when you felt bad. He hated it when you got so lost in your thoughts that you couldn’t find your way out. But he was glad you were on the path back to being yourself, and Steven intended to be with you every step of the way. 

Knock! Knock!

You raised your head as you called out a “come in!”. The heavy, wooden door creaked open, revealing your secretary, Scott Lang. He gave you a bright smile and wave, before saying, “Yelena’s here to talk about her investigation. And Marc’s here because he heard that Yelena was reporting her findings.”

You gave a nod. “Alright, please send them in. Oh, and would you mind sitting with us while she tells me what she’s found? I would like some notes over it.”

“No problemo!”

Scott was a cheery sort of fellow. You almost wished he had put that on his resumé so that you might have hired him sooner. It didn’t really feel like he was a secretary. It felt like he was a friend. When he was around, it was easy to laugh, it was easy to smile. He didn’t treat you like you were the Queen or like you were his boss. No, he treated you like a friend, and that was something you appreciated. It made you wonder what your life might have been life if you had had a normal life. 

“Hey dove,” Marc said as he walked into the room, Cleo snuggled up in his arms. He walked up to your desk, leaning down to kiss you, before sitting on the edge of the desk. 

“Scott didn’t mention our little baby was here,” you said, cooing at Cleo. She jumped from Marc’s arms, into yours. Your smile grew as you lifted her to rub your nose against hers. “I would’ve had him usher you in sooner.”

“Mew!”

“I missed you, too, baby.”

“Hey, where’s all the excitement to see me?” Marc pouted. 

You let out a laugh. He leaned down for another kiss, which you happily gave. “I’m excited to see you, too, my love.”

Yelena gagged from the doorway. “You too are adorable. It makes me sick.”

“Shh, I love when they’re like this,” Scott said. 

You pulled away from Marc and turned to Yelena. “Come in, sit,” you said, motioning to one of the chairs across from your desk. Yelena sank into one, Scott into the other. “I assume the investigation has gone well if you already have findings for me.”

“They got sloppy after your little announcement,” Yelena said. “When the news reported Benjamin was being investigated for involvement in sex trafficking, they knew they had to act fast to get the attention of them. If the Queen was killed, the investigation would’ve been dropped.”

Marc frowned. “But wouldn’t that mean they could still get caught? Dove’s death would’ve been investigated, the killer would’ve been found, the dominoes would’ve fallen…”

“That’s where the sloppiness came into play,” Yelena said. “They hired a sniper, someone unaffiliated with the group. Get all the details to a minimum and all that. If the killer was caught, it would be difficult to tie it back to them. But then Jake pushed Y/N out of the way, and Benjamin died, and the plan changed. They revealed themselves to the killer, tried to kill him for failing. We found him not long after they left. He was more than happy to tell us everything we needed.”

Your heart thumped, hard, in your chest. You didn’t like the idea of people being hurt because of you—even if those people were trying to hurt you. The world was too cruel for any added pain. “Is he alright?”

“Recovering in the hospital,” Yelena said. “The Attorney General wanted to offer a plea deal in exchange for more information, but she wanted to clear with you first.”

“Tell her to call me tomorrow, and we can discuss the details,” you said. “They’re going to act again, aren’t they? That’s why there might be a plea deal.”

Yelena gave a curt nod. “He didn’t say much about future steps, didn’t want to ruin his chances at getting the deal. But, he said enough for me to recommend increasing security.”

“Increase security? She already has an army surrounding her!” Scott said. When the three of you looked at him, his face flushed red. “Figuratively, of course. And, I mean, she should probably have more security. What do I know?”

“He has a point,” Marc said. “If we make it obvious that we’re increasing security, that’ll tip the group off and they’ll go more into hiding. It’ll more dangerous when they strike then. We need to keep them acting sloppy while we can. The more they mess up, the better prepared we can be.”

“How good are the Moon Knights at being undercover?” you asked Marc. 

“Incredibly good. Scary good.” He paused. “If you’re suggesting that the Moon Knights go undercover, act like regular civilians…”

“There’s too many of them for the public to be intimately familiar with their faces.”

“And they’re stealthy enough that it wouldn’t matter either way,” Marc finished. “I think that could work.”

Yelena nodded. “They wouldn’t expect it. They would think we’re ignorant of the truth, all while we’re prepared to strike back. All we would need is to know when they plan to strike first.”

“Well,” you said, “if they’re wanting to distract from the investigation on Benjamin, the more attention my death would receive, the better it would be for them.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I think that I might die at Benjamin’s funeral.”

[starryevermore]

psst you didn’t hear it from me but do not chastise the dove epilogue comes out tomorrow 🤫

[starryevermore]

would we prefer chapter 15 of do not chastise the dove earlier in the day or later in the day? it’s more on the angsty side if that matters 😗