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pookapics · 3 years

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The Wolf and His She-Bear - A Winter Soldier x Queen!Reader (Series) CH3

Chapter 3 - A Bear in Sheep’s Clothing

Warnings: Blood & Dead Bodies/Corpses.

Masterlist https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/610955368454045696/coming-soon-fantasy-auwinter-soldier-x

The silence between your Father and yourself only grew, it was if neither of you knew what to say that would make the situation any better, that would improve your destined fate, you were the sacrificial lamb being sent out to be slaughtered by the ravenous wolves.

With his hand still pressed upon your cheek, he sorrowfully stared into your eyes “My Child.” His thumb caressing your cheek sweetly “May the gods carry the prayers of our people to protect you on your passage.” Leaning in to press a kiss to your brow, sharing this attentive moment but it also felt melancholic and final as your Father took leave, to retrieve what you had insinuated needing from his own living quarters.

There you stood, now alone. All that remained in the hall were the corpses of the Guards that had been slaughtered, left there with no respect to who they were before their death. Walking towards the bodies, you knelt down beside one of them “May your spirit return back to the earth.” your hand gently closed their eyes and moved the hands so they rested at their sides, bowing your head in respect as you moved to do the same for the others.

You would not let your people be left like this, as if they were just debris of battle, there is always a space for compassion in times of need.

One by one, you closed the eyes of the dead and made sure they got an individual send-off back to the earth from once they came. You sat quietly with them, waiting for the remaining guards to arrive and to take their bodies back to their awaiting loved ones.

There you rested your head back against the stone walls of the hall, listening to the gentle hum of the castle, the wind clattering against the windows like the hooves of wild horses. The castle had always felt so alive, as if the people moving about it were its blood, flowing in and out of the many rooms and keeping the castle flourishing and alive.

Guards began to carry the dead out of the hall, taking considerate care with moving them, these were people they knew and cared for too. A servant rushed into the hall soon after “My Queen! The Royal Advisors are awaiting your arrival in the Study!” It was time to strategise, you would continue to mourn in private, leaving the hall and walking up towards the Royal Study.

It didn't take you long to reach the Study itself and with a push of your hand you opened the door with a loud bang, the Advisors turned to look at you in shock, but you simply walked in and sat in your Father’s chair “I thank you for coming in such haste, beloved Advisors.”

They nodded quickly and pulled out scrolls of parchment, unfurling them across the table to display maps, illustrating the divides in the Kingdoms within this realm “Hydra was a formation of Kingdoms, minor principalities who didn’t sign the Treaty of Peace or were simply taken over during invasions.” Spoke the advisors, plotting out the map with any changes that had occured, it felt as if more and more of the map was being taken over by Hydra, like a heavy fog that continued to grow.

“Lord Pierce is sending his troupe to the Highest Kingdoms, I pray that they return the support with haste. We have been loyal to them long before even my father was King of Ursia.” Sitting upon your chair, you could feel the blood from Brock’s hand still smeared across your face from where he had touched you, like a claiming mark on you that you were his.

You would never be his.

The Advisors frowned “Your Majesty, what are we going to do about the engagement you have agreed to? Surely, you will not marry such a brute!” They fluttered around your chair like flies surrounding rotting fruit. But you simply rose your hand up to silence their whimpers, eyes narrowed and full of thought.

“I promised my hand, I surely can make him abide by the law of betrothment that rings for all Royal betrothals in Ursia.” A cunning smile stretched across your lips “Dearest Advisors, what does the Law of Betrothment entail exactly.” Still inching back into the naivete which your role as Princess had given you, letting them explain the plan out as to sate their own anxieties.

“To bind two Royal houses in the Kingdom of Ursia, they must be betrothed in the awakening spring, their bond blossoming like the spring-time fauna.” An advisor spoke up.

“They must persist through all the seasons, through the blistering heat of summer to the damning and inhospitable winters which haunt the Kingdom.” A second decreed.

Rising to your feet, you stood amongst them, that cunning and calculating gleam never left your face “And only if the bond persists and blooms during such conditions will they be wed in the rebirth of Ursia as spring awakens once again.” The Advisors were bewildered as you approached the map “This law and tradition protects me as Queen, and gives good time for allies to form their defences to aid Ursia.” Pointing to all the Kingdoms upon the map, praying that they would come to Ursia’s aid.

The doors to the Study opened suddenly to reveal your Father, carrying an old, battered chest, the embellishments tarnished and rusted from the cruelty of time “I have found what you needed.” Placing it at your feet.

With quickness, you opened it to reveal the item you seeked. Servants in the doorway of the study wondered what had the King been searching for in the deepest crevices of his living-quarters and what the now Queen wanted with it, peering their heads in, all wanting to catch a glance.

Hands reaching into the chest, your fingers met the soft material inside, pulling out yards of fabric, it moved like a waterfall’s flow. Those who knew of what you held, gasped.

In your hand, you held an ornate ruby tinged gown. It shimmered in the spring-time sun, the gold embroidery resembling fire at the edges of the sleeves and at the bottom of the billowing skirt.

“Are you sure, my Queen?” Asked one of the Advisors nervously, wondering if this is truly what you wanted to do.

“I am sure.” This would be your silent resistance, a sign to your people and to those who knew what this gown signified.

The chattering of servants could be heard at the door, many too young to know what this meant, but there stood Martha, she had once laced your Mother into that very gown.

“The only time a Queen of this Kingdom wears red is to embody something.”

“Embody what?” Chipped in a young maid, confused.

Turning your head to the servants, they quickly looked away or bowed their heads but Martha, the Handmaiden who’d been at your side since your Mother had passed simply nodded. With the dress in your arms, you stood before the servants, a look of defiance upon your face.

“When her Kingdom is at war, a Queen dressed in red embodies war itself, a symbol of resistance and of the war in its entirety.” Staring at the golden threads which laced the dress together “It is also a reminder of the blood of her people that has been shed, the very people she is sworn to defend.” There was already bloodshed on your title and upon your rule, so this would be your reminder.

Martha stood before you “Your Mother would be proud, my dearest Queen, taking up her gown.” Her hands touched the fabric, remembering how she pulled at each thread and stitch, though her body and her hands had grown old and worn, the dress had not and was merely awaiting its next wearer.

Light was escaping the study fast, Prince Brock’s promise hung heavily amongst all who stood there, you had but one final request.

“Martha. I ask you, could you lace me up, for one last time…”

Fingers entwined with your own, feeling Martha’s thumb caressing the back of your hand sweetly, her voice filled with such care “Of course.” She took the dress into her own grasp and began to lead you away from the study and up to your own quarters, everyone silent as you headed off.

The castle was at a standstill now, it had lost its heart, its natural rhythm. It was dawning on everyone how soon Hydra would return, to steal away their Queen to their dark lands. Each step up you took was heavy, the pounding of blood rushing through your ears, growing painful till you reached the door to your room. Quickly, you clicked it closed behind Martha and yourself.

Martha’s hands swiftly worked at the lacing of your dress, letting it descend to the floor with a thud, this was a dark contrast to how your morning had begun.

Sat now on the ottoman in your chemise, the only part of your outfit that had not been stained with blood and dirt, Martha began to remove each of the glass butterflies which had rested in your hair and placed your crown aside, her hands restyled your hair to the best of her abilities.

Soon, a wet cloth came to your cheek as she cleaned the blood from your face, erasing Brock’s touch from you, but you still felt it there.

Martha paused, resting her hand upon your cheek.

“Oh (YN)...” It felt like it had been forever since someone had said your name with such love behind it, not Princess nor Queen.

Just your name.

Martha's hands cupped your cheeks “Be strong, you are your Mother’s daughter, you have the heart of a bear deep inside you, just like she did.” Making you look to the tapestry upon your wall, one your Mother had worked upon with yourself when you merely a young princess. You hadn’t looked at it with such concentration in a long time.

The tapestry showed a maiden, standing there with a crown resting upon their brow, but surrounding them was the image of a bear, roaring proudly in defence, ready to strike down their enemies.

Martha’s words rung true in your ears.

You must become a symbol and let out the beast inside.

With a simple nod, Martha pulled you to your feet, slipping your body into the red gown and began to lace you into it with ease, there was a comfortable and knowing silence between the two of you as her fingers pulled at the lacings. This gown would be your armour, and your mind would be your weapon.

The silence dissipated as servants entered to pack your belongings, working quietly to pack anything you would need on the journey and anything of emotional value to yourself.

Soon, you were ready, packed and prepared for the arrival of Hydra, travelling boots upon your feet and the dress trailing shortly after yourself as you watched the servants take the bags down towards the entrance to the castle, descending the stairs faster than field mice.

Taking this as your chance, you spoke up, your voice wavering only slighty “I am going to the parapet to await the arrival of Prince Brock.” but truly, it was to take in the castle, in its entirety one last time, unsure of the next time you would see this place, the only home you’d ever known.

Martha merely nodded and descended down the steps but took a moment to watch you head up high into the castle, for the final time.

Gently, you pressed your fingers against the stone walls, feeling the roughness of the stone against your skin as step by step, you got closer to the parapet, but not before taking a moment of pause before the paintings of your Mother and older Brother.

It made you wonder that if they were here with you today, if this all would have gone very differently.

“I miss you both so very much...” Hands resting against the paintings as you finally let yourself weep, this moment was only between yourself and the portraits of your family, hoping they were watching over you at this time.

It felt like a crashing wave as you let the tears stream down your face, body shaking as your resounding cry of sorrow rattled through the stone walls of the castle.

You wept for the dead, for your people, for your family.

But, you also wept for yourself, for what you had to do now.

Wiping away your tears, you pulled away from the portraits, ascending up the turrets to the parapet, the doors opening with a twist of the handle. Walking out onto the grey stone of the parapet, you could see the whole Kingdom from this height. The sun began to descend, clinging to the darkening sky almost desperately as you waited there.

So there you stood, wind picking up as you stood upon the castle’s parapet, hair being battered in the breeze, the red dress you wore, blowing behind you and shone in the remnants of the sun. But your eyes never left its trained point on the castle-gates, awaiting the arrival of your death sentence.

Prince Brock of the House Rumlow.

It did not feel as if it had been a matter of hours since the deal had been struck.

One life for the safety of many.

A horse’s cry could be heard with Hydra on the approach towards the castle-gates, led by the Prince himself up front.

It was time to go.

Leaving the safety of the parapet, the steps seemed a lot harder to descend than before, as if they were trying to prevent the inevitable of what was happening, but they could not. At the bottom of the steps, stood all the servants, your Father and Lord Pierce, who had returned from sending off his men.

But you said not a word till you stood before the only remaining family you had left, clearing your throat slightly.

“Goodbye Father…” Staring up at him, the mutual look of sorrow was easily seen, his hand held onto yours as he walked with you to your damnation.

You dared not say another word.

The doors opened, and there in the courtyard stood your people, they had returned to the castle from the safety of their homes to give a silent send off for their Queen. All eyes were trained on your form, even the elders bowed their heads in recognition of the gown you wore, they too remembered it from your Father and Mother’s reign. Walking through the crowd, your arm stayed entwined with your Father’s as the servants carried your things closely behind.

There Brock stood, with that cold-eyed soldier again by his side, he simply outstretched his arm but you would not take it. Now was the time to enact the beginnings of the plan “Prince Brock, my betrothed. I have one thing you must promise me before we leave my beloved Ursia.” You could see he was clearly startled by this.

“Of course, my Bride! What is it you ask of me?” His hand twitching, not impressed by the looks of it.

“Royals of Ursia have specific traditions and laws concerning marriage, I hope that we can be held to those traditions, it would fill my heart with such joy.” All in all, pretending to be this subdued and naive girl, but you were merely setting the trap that you hoped he would step into.

You were a spider and he was the fly in your web.

“Of course! I want to make sure this marriage is a partnership, I would be honoured to be involved in such a tradition.”

You had him trapped, putting him on the spot like this, in front of everyone meant he couldn't refuse his beloved new bride’s simple request.

Pride was important to him.

“I thank you greatly.” taking this moment to curtsey and bow your head to hide the smirk upon your face, he was just where you wanted him.

“We must take leave! For my Kingdom awaits, along the journey you can implore me of your Kingdom’s… traditions.” His arm arm still outstretched for you to take.

Taking your arm from your Father’s grasp and entwining yourself with Brock, he led you away to the carriage where you would sit, explaining he would take turns leading his men up front and taking comfort in the warmth of the carriage alongside yourself and one other.

“You will ride in the carriage with Winter, he is assigned to you for your protection. Don't worry… he doesn’t bite.” Snarling at you, it made your heart drop.

You took a small glance to the man you’d be sharing the carriage with along this journey.

Winter, the name hadn’t really left your mind since it had first left Brock’s lips, was a tall beast of a man, you could easily remember the pure strength he exuded during the swordfight against yourself, he had some power inside of him.

The look he gave off, it reminded you of the wolves that hunted within the kingdom, they were large and imposing creatures, but very quiet as they hunted any poor thing which lingered outside too long, even in the darkest and coldest winters they still hunted. But the wolves, they could never fend off the true predator of the land, the one who staked claim and became the crest of this Kingdom.

The bear.

“That’s alright with me.” Watching as the servants loaded in your belongings, they too stood with the rest of the Kingdom to send you off, but all deep down, they prayed that you would return safely soon. With ease, you stepped up into the carriage, taking a seat closest to the window, watching as your father, the Old King had now allowed himself to weep.

Winter took his seat across from you as Brock headed up front and climbed atop his horse.

The carriage began its departure from the Kingdom, the horses trudging along the still snow-covered soil, leaving behind your beloved Kingdom. You placed your fingers upon the window-pane, watching as the people and soon the castle disappeared into the distance.

There was deep sorrow in your heart, but also the kindlings of fury, but you’d keep that deep down for now.

You just had to wait for the right moment.

For now you had to act like a devoted fiancee to a brute, but there would come the time when you would make him squeal and scream, letting him die not like a man but like the foul dog he was.

But for now, you bid your time in your quiet rebellion.

For Brock had no idea what type of Queen you were.

_____________________________________________________

TAGLIST

@nialeesato @austynparksandpizza

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pookapics · 3 years

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The Wolf and His She-Bear - A Winter Soldier x Queen!Reader (Series) CH2

Chapter 2 - A Death Sentence

Warnings: Blood & Violence

Masterlist https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/610955368454045696/coming-soon-fantasy-auwinter-soldier-x

People scattered in fear as the legion of armies entered, launching at anyone who dared try to escape the hallowed halls. Guards of Ursia were crushed beneath the heels of these attackers, bones crunched as if it were in the maws of a beast. Mothers hid their children against their chest, shielding their eyes from the horror occurring on this supposed sacred day.

The flowers which littered the floor were now soaked in blood, the petals stained and tainted by blood

Taking your first command as Queen, you unsheathed a sword that was hanging upon the walls, holding it with ease. Your father never underestimated you for being a woman, instead he made sure you had no disadvantage amongst Kings and their knights and the monsters that lingered deep down inside some of them. Wielding the blade with little resistance, you stood “KINGDOM OF HYDRA! HOW DARE YOU STEP ANY FOOT INTO THE KINGDOM OF URSIA! STAND DOWN!” Your voice never wavered as you stood there, standing in your gown with sword in hand.

“Ah how sweet~ the Kingdom’s little Princess standing there, trying to take command of me! How quaint.” A voice echoed as the army parted to usher in their leader. Every step he took, it made bile rise in your throat, his words sickening to the core.

“THAT is Queen to YOU!” You emphasised, stepping closer with blade in hand, not allowing yourself to be intimidated, refusing to let this brute bring havoc to your people. Watching him closely, his movements matching your own.

“Of course, it is humorous that this little Queen dares to try and take command of me? A man of my title!?” He roared to intimidate, but you stood tall, refusing to let this brute continue his mockery. With a slash of your sword, you brought him to his knees “If you insist to insinuate such mockery, I will not hesitate.” Sword coming to rest against his throat, your eyes refused to show fear as his dark eyes showed but a glimmer of it.

He let out a frightened command “WINTER!” A sword came your way which you blocked, hearing the sword clicking away from its sheath, coming face to face with a soldier.

Eyes pale, a ghostly shade of blue, the colour of a glacier.

Winter, as the leader had called him, was an imposing force, standing with his sword interlocked with your own, screeching as the metal met in the collision of blades. Refusing to waiver, you push your blade against the soldier’s, you will not be brought down so easily. Winter pressed back, the two of you caught in a stalemate, the blades themselves were shining in the candle-light of the Great Hall, illuminating your faces. The soldier pressed in further with surprising strength, making you side-step away from the oncoming blade that collided with the stone floors, sparks coming off the blade from the sheer power of the swing. You’d never seen an opponent with such prowess, he felt almost inhuman.

The King’s sword left its sheath once again, standing at your side “I will fight alongside you, my daughter. For Ursia.” His eyes meeting yours, the same fire was reflecting in your own.

“Fight for our people.” Turning your gaze to the people, they had barricaded themselves using the benches, the children and the vulnerable in the middle and protected from any oncoming attack.

“MY PEOPLE! I will not let them take our Kingdom! That is a promise!” The remaining Royal Guards, who had not been slain, rose with their wounds still clear to see, wanting to continue to fight for this Kingdom and for the Crown.

The Leader stepped forward “A fight you want, a fight you shall have! It is all in vain! For this land will be secured for Hydra! By I, Prince Brock of the House Rumlow.” Claiming his title, which came as a shock to your father and yourself, the House of Rumlow had been loyal to Lord Pierce for many summers, was this a betrayal of a long bond? From the look on Lord Pierce’s face, it was.

You snatched the shocked expression off your face, this was no time to be swept in emotions. Quickly, you began to tie up the train of your dress so it no longer trailed behind you, tied closer to your knees and calves, not needing to be tripped up by your coronation gown. Standing there with your father at your side and the guards behind you.

There you let out a clear command to your attackers “I do not wish for any blood to shed in this Kingdom! I only wish for you to leave but if you do not, I will not haste in spilling your blood across these floors! You are going against the laws promised by your House, Prince Brock!” Remembering his father signing the Treaty, he was to be held against the same laws his father had been.

Brock sneered “I KNOW OF THE TREATY!” He growled, his commanders tried to pull him back, he seemed unchained and feral “Your land is fertile and full of many natural resources, My Queen! Water pure from the glaciers which form, water that is not seen in any corner of the realm! Your Kingdom is being rather greedy with its resources.”

You immediately came on the rebuttal “You call us greedy? We have no ability to trade in the conditions of the region, you are demented!” Sword outstretched in his direction “There is nothing in this Kingdom you could possibly desire! We are a small Kingdom with resources that can only suffice to support our people.” Attempting to plead with the deranged Prince before you.

“I must plead with you again. There is nothing in this Kingdom that you could possibly desire.” Staring deeply into his eyes “I want no harm to come to my people.” Standing there before the legion of Hydra soldiers, your people cowering inside of the barricades they’d made.

A smirk came to the Prince’s face.

“There is something that I do desire that would suffice.” He stepped forward, away from his army, placing his sword back into its sheath. His sable stained armour shrouded his form like he was a harbinger of death, imposing deep feelings of dread in your mind, fearing what it was he truly desired.

The Prince stopped in front of you, your Father with his sword in hand prepared to attack if he made any move to harm you but Brock never unsheathed his blade.

“What I want is you, my Queen.” His hand coming to grace your cheek, his fingers stained in blood.

The blood of your people.

__________________________________________

The sound of your heart pounded in your ears, pulsing and thumping loudly, but the smell of blood made it all come to you all of a sudden. Staring into the eyes of the man who had slaughtered your guards, your people and who had just asked for your hand in marriage.

“You... You want my hand in marriage?”

“Who wouldn’t want to marry a Queen?” Making you hold back a wretch, the way he talked about you as if you were only a title, a way of rising in power within the realm. Remaining silent, you saw him putting something together, forming a plan of sorts “How about this...”

He removed his hand from your face “If you, Queen (YN) of Ursia were to marry me and make me King of your Kingdom, I will leave your people unharmed.” The wail of a young baby further made the pounding in your ears grow.

If you didn’t accept, He would surely slaughter your people, without a moral pause.

“Do you guarantee that If I-I… If I marry you. That my people will be spared from your men.” Your fingers still wrapped around the grip of your sword as you could hear the sobs of your people from behind you, some begging you not to accept this barbaric deal.

“Daughter…” There stood your Father, the old King stared at you, his last remaining child and only remnant of family he had left. Turning to your father, you shared a silent moment with him, this felt so final. As if this exchange was the last you’d ever have with the man who’d raised you.

You knew that your Kingdom did not have the resources to fight back against the legions of soldiers that Hydra held in its armies, this was the only way that your Kingdom would be safe, there was no time to call for help from the far-reaching Kingdoms. You had to act now.

“I accept.”

______________________________________________________

Cries of your people intertwined with the chorus of Hydra soldiers, cheering as Prince Brock roared in delight, the sound deafening and finalised the decision you had just made “I will give you time to prepare for the journeying to my Kingdom.” Brock lifted your hand and pressed the kiss of death to the back of it, lips as cold as a corpse, you pulled away quickly.

“What?”

Standing before him as he laughed “Of course! You must visit the other half of your new Kingdom, my Queen!” Taunting you with his melodic tone “In my Kingdom! We will plan for when we shall be wed!”

Stepping away from you, he gleamed with a devilish smile “I will be back when the sun begins to fall! Be prepared by then, My Bride.” With a turn of his heel, he left the Great Hall.

The Soldier though, Winter as Prince Brock had called him stayed a moment longer before he too left the hall, corpses of the Royal Guard lay slain in the hall still, the legions of Hydra soldiers simply walked over them, bloody footsteps staining the cobble-stone paths of the castle, leaving behind all the carnage they had caused.

Remaining Royal Guards were at the people’s side immediately and helped them out of the castle and back to their homes, this joyous day had forever been tainted. Fear, the emotion was so palpable and was coming off all of those left in that hall. A hand was clasped on your shoulder, the hand of your father was shaking, but no words left either of yours lips.

But you broke the silence.

“Organise a funeral for each of the guards, make sure their families receive all the support the crown can give.” Shutting off your emotions, something you had seen your father do during the darkest times of Ursia, your people needed you firstly and then, when you were alone in your quarters, would you let yourself weep.

Lord Pierce approached “This is truly a tragic start to your rule, my Queen.” Standing at your side but you refused to be pitied

“You are wrong, Lord Pierce.”

This made the Lord look at you in bewilderment “Rumlow made his plan, it is time to make mine.” Picking up the crown, which your father had let go of during the confrontation, and placing it upon your head “Send for all the Royal Advisors, summon them into the Study.” Sending a couple of servants to go to the far reaches of the castle, knowing the advisors had most likely escaped to their quarters during the conflict, many were not wise in hand to hand combat, the theory of war was their realm of knowledge.

“You’re not going down without a fight are you?” You could hear the rumbling tone of your Father, never leaving your side, you simply shook your head.

“If I play the game correctly, we can bring Hydra down from within, all we need are trusted allies.” Locking eyes with Pierce, knowing he had ties with all of the highest nobilities throughout the realm, from the farthest reaches of Wakanda to the highest peaks in the Kingdom of Asgard. With a smile on his face, he bowed before you.

“I will send forth my troupe, they will bring messages of Ursia’s time of need.” Lord Pierce took leave, going to retrieve his troupe, who was aiding in tending to the injured and frightened persons who had bore witness to the conflict.

Leaving you once again, alone with only your father and yourself in the hall, you asked but one thing of him “There’s one last thing I need...” but you did not look your father in the eye, fearing if you did, that the emotions would come to the surface.

A soft noise of recognition came from his lips “I already know of what you ask.” His hand, which hadn’t left your shoulder reached up to rest itself upon your cheek, a small tender gesture. This moment was a scarce one, an unlikely occurrence but it was a genuine one shared between two still grieving people.

Not as a King. No. But as a Father he grieved the loss of his only living child.

Because to him, and to the Kingdom, this was a sentence to death.

________________________________________________________

TAGLIST

@nialeesato

@austynparksandpizza

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pookapics · 3 years

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bucky is a Nerd

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pookapics · 3 years

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Me, just trying to find fluffy or angsty, well-written fics with my new favorite characters:

——————–

Me, as my dash is literally only filled with non-con and dark!fics:

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pookapics · 3 years

Text

The Wolf & His She-Bear - A Winter Soldier x Queen!Reader (Series) - CH1

Chapter 1: She Will Welcome in the Spring.

Warnings: None!

Masterlist https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/610955368454045696/coming-soon-fantasy-auwinter-soldier-x

The wind picked up as you stood upon the castle’s parapet, hair whipping in the breeze, your burgundy gown blowing behind you and shone in the remnants of the sun. Eyes trained on the castle-gates, awaiting the arrival of your death sentence.

Prince Brock of the House Rumlow.

It had only been a couple hours since the deal had been struck

One life for the safety of many.

__________________THE DAY BEFORE__________________

The castle-grounds were at ease, deep slumber overtook the people of Ursia, a small kingdom nestled amongst the mountains which were covered with thick layers of snow, a barrier from the outside world. During the deepest winters, the kingdom was unreachable and practically a fortress, many distant kingdoms had never heard of Ursia, due in part to the pure cold isolation of the kingdom’s landscape. Snow which covered the grounds was slowly starting to melt and with it being the eve of the first day of spring, the annual celebration would take place welcoming in spring as they would be freed from the ice barriers which kept the people at a stand-still for three excruciatingly long months, daylight was short during this time.

Only a few were awake during this time of night, one being yourself, you could not rest with it not only being the eve of spring but also,

The eve of your coronation, the day you would take the throne as ‘Queen of Ursia’, your coronation dress hung up on your changing-screen, a beautiful soft blue dress with individually sewn flower petals and delicately stitched fabric butterflies, the train of the dress was also beautifully and ornately decorated, resembling a pond of clear blue water with springtime fauna surrounding it almost bewitchingly.

You could only imagine the moment you would step out into the Great Hall tomorrow, your people had talked of your coronation all winter long, praising you and awaiting the day that you would let the crown rest upon your brow and indeed...

You would welcome spring into your kingdom once again.

Following tradition as your father had done all those years ago on his own coronation.

You lay awake in your bed, you could not rest your eyes, mind was far too filled with anticipation to sleep. So, to possibly drain some energy from your never ending thoughts, you rose from your bed and wrapped a fur-lined robe around you for some warmth and comfort, which bore the insignia of the kingdom on the back.

A Bear.

The robe covered your form and the ivory shift dress you wore to bed. With your fireplace still crackling, you reached to grasp the small candelabra which decorated your chest of drawers and quickly lit the candle resting inside it. With the small candelabra in hand, you took steps out of your room to pace the halls, as to let out the pent up energy which was haunting your restless mind.

Light emanating from the candelabra refracted onto the walls and created shadows behind you, following you down the corridors. As you strolled through the cold corridors, you stumbled upon a portrait which had belonged to your elder brother, the one who was meant to be king but never was.

When the Kingdom had been struck with a plague, it had taken the lives of your brother and mother. Gazing upon his face, a sombre feeling shrouded over you like a dark fog, though the fever had been eradicated, the after-effects were still seen in the kingdom and its people. The eyes which once belonged to your brother bore deeply into your own, haunting you with his omnipotent and lingering presence in these old castle walls “It should have been you here…” muttering those words as your eyes never left the painting of your brother.

The sound of footsteps to your right pulled you from your focus on the painting, turning on your heel with candelabra in hand to see who was on the approach, heart beating quickly. Candlelight illuminated the stranger’s face, shining against the luxurious material of the stranger’s robes.

“Lord Pierce?” Your voice was meek, shocked at seeing his presence in these lonesome halls which were devoid of other people. Lord Pierce’s own voice was full of shock and confusion “Your Majesty? What is a lady such as yourself doing awake and pacing the halls? At this time of night?” He spoke with almost fondness. He was a long-time comrade of your father, a confidant to the royals, having seen many battles at your father’s side and remained loyal throughout. Smiling gently at Lord Pierce ``I couldn’t sleep, must be nerves.” relaxing around him, already feeling some nerves calmed. Pierce stepped forward and smiled “I see, Coronation nerves is common in all rulers, its good that you’re hesitant, it means you care about your people.” he gently placed his hand upon your back, leading you back to your room “You have nothing to fear, my dear. You will bring good to your kingdom.” The small light of the candelabra guiding the two of you back to where you came from.

“I must ask before we part for the night, Lord Pierce why were you, a lord such as yourself pacing the halls at this time of night?” His words now coming back on him, a smile on your face as you see him chuckle at your words “As inquisitive as always Your Majesty, I was merely checking in on my troupe, seeing that they’re well prepared for tomorrow.” Lord Pierce had power throughout all the kingdoms, an ally to those who signed the Treaty of Peace many summers ago, his men were trained to the highest calibre and were assigned to many kingdoms, their skills in battle well-renowned, you understood now why he was pacing the halls like yourself “That suffices as a good explanation, Lord Pierce. Thank you for accompanying me back to my living quarters.” You curtsied as he bowed in response before he began to bid you goodnight

“You will be a mighty queen, I hope that my loyalty to your father passes onto you and we remain good allies throughout your reign.” And with that, he excused himself and left for his own living quarters, disappearing into the dark like an illusion. Entering your room, you removed the robe and placed it upon a chair, slipping back into bed as if your venture into the castle halls had not happened, blowing out the dripping wax candles which were placed in the slots of the candelabra and letting sleep finally overtake your mind and body which had previously not let you rest before.

It felt as though your eyes had only rested but a moment when you were awoken by your handmaidens, urging you to begin to get ready for the big day ahead, sunshine peeking through the crack in your thick woolen curtains and gently shining upon your face, spring had began to awaken. Hands helped you out of your bed, your handmaidens fluttering around you like honey bees around a flower patch, hurrying you to go bathe and to start the morning ritual.

First, you were bathed. Hair was soaked and washed thoroughly, with your body followed afterwards, the waters were littered with herbs and the last remnants of lavender from last spring’s harvest. Any aches your body had were long gone as you rested in the tub for a little, the handmaidens tending to your hair and preparing to style it, hair accessories decorated the small side table in preparation before they were woven into your hair. Stepping out of the tub, a plain shroud was slipped on for modesty as the handmaidens began to dry your hair enough to be able to style it.

Gentle fingers began to style your hair, gently pulling and tugging in places to correctly style it in the way they imagined, pins being slotted to keep the style in place before accessories were added to adorn the hairstyle of your choosing. Glass butterflies were delicately littered in your hair, their wings reflecting on the ground magically. Other accessories began to adorn your hair, little snowdrops woven into your locks alongside the butterflies, as if the butterflies were resting upon the wintertime fauna.

Step by step, you watched in the mirror as you began to evolve from a young Princess into the future Queen, the weight of today still heavy upon your shoulders. The dress which still rested on your changing screen could be seen in the mirror, it was time to be laced in, the final step. Your head-handmaiden, Martha smiled “Its time.” she picked up the dress, urging you to rise to your feet, which you complied. Walking behind the changing screen with her, she helped you slip into the coronation gown with ease, Martha’s hands making quick work of the ribbons of your dress lacing, her aged and thoroughly weathered hands pulled and adjusted each ribbon till she was satisfied they were perfect, slipping on the shoes she placed before your feet.

Martha guided you out from behind the changing screen, the fellow handmaidens gasped as they saw you “My lady, you are breathtaking.” The younger handmaidens spoke together, admiring you as you stood before them “Thank you. Its all your beautiful handy-work anyway.” running your hand gently across the fabric of your dress in sheer awe, the fabric was imported in from the Kingdom of Stark prior to winter, the dress took all season to create by hand.

It was a work of art, truly.

Martha smiled as bells chimed throughout the small Kingdom, a reminder that the coronation was soon to begin, she hurried the younger handmaidens out of your room and told them to head down to the Great Hall. Martha smiled and turned to you as she stood at the door “Your father will send someone down to fetch you.” She too left and headed to the hall to find herself a good seat. This left you standing in your quarters, alone and awaiting one of your father’s men to retrieve you and take you down to the hall to the people who awaited your presence. Pacing your room, the dress trailed behind you as you awaited a knock at your door, arms crossed across your chest as your heart raced, nerves beginning to resurface.

As those thoughts entered your head, the knock rattled gently on the door, it was time to go to the hall with whoever your father had sent for you “Come in…” you called out to whoever it was waiting outside your door.

“Ah Lord Pierce!” Turning on your heel to face him, the train of your dress followed behind you as step by step, you approached someone you practically considered family.

“Your Majesty, you look absolutely ravishing! The seamstress has done wonders on your dress.” He admired the handiwork on your gown, his hand over the top of yours so softly, something he used to do to soothe you as a child when your father was out on the battlefield, trying to secure the land for the Kingdom during the wars on Hydra territories.

The two of you stood there, his arm outstretched for you to take, heading down the stone-hall side by side, the anticipation of what awaited you was apparent, the feeling was building in your chest as the distance from the Great Hall grew smaller and smaller and the sound emanating from behind the doors of the hall grew louder and louder.

It made you take a pause.

You were going to be Queen, what you had been schooled and bred for.

Lord Pierce held your arm in his still “The Kingdom awaits.” He motioned you forward, reassuringly, you couldn’t shy away from this. This is what needed to be done. Nodding your head, you let out a deep breath and approached the imposing doors of the Great Hall which opened at your presence.

Flowers decorated the stone floors, creating a pathway for you to walk upon, feet not touching the hard stone below. The train of the dress made it look as if you were merely floating above the ground, like an ethereal creature. All eyes were on you as you descended down the aisle of the Great Hall with Lord Pierce at your side, leading you towards the King, your father.

Parting ways with Lord Pierce at the end of the aisle, you were met with your father, who held in his hands the crown which no longer rested on his brow like you seen as such your entire life. Standing face to face, his strong and commanding look bore into yours, the expression which you reciprocated, the tenderness was not for now but for a spare moment after the Coronation.

The music silenced as you took your place before your father’s throne, everyone watching and waiting as the old King cleared his throat “I, King Barin III of Ursia, will bestow the duty of Majesty and Humble Friend to the people of this Kingdom upon Princess (YN) of Ursia.” He reached for his sword, which had been forged specially in his honour by the previous King Stark during his youth, a great inventor from the far-regions of the land. Forged in gold at its helm, the grip twisted and worn and now resembling the bark of a tree, worn by the uses in battle. But at the top of the grip, lay the signet of the family. The roaring maws of a bear, the eyes were precious shining stones, a shade of onyx that shone gold as he swung it at his enemies on the battlefield.

Following the que, you bowed your head, kneeling before your father as he placed the sword upon your shoulder, as if he were to perform a knighting. But it was tradition to be done so, to be crowned under your predecessor’s blade, in hope that the blade which the new King or Queen shall take will not need to shed more blood than has already been spilled at the hands of another.

“Are you, Princess (YN) of Ursia, willing to take the oath.”

“I am willing.” Your voice confident, you had the hopes and faith of your people behind you, as the blade rested amongst the fabric butterflies of your dress, the people had sewn their dreams and prayers into this gown.

You will not fail them.

“Will you swear to govern and serve justice throughout this land according to our ancient laws and traditions which formed this kingdom?”

“I solemnly promise I shall.”

“Will you be a promised friend to your people, putting the needs of them before your own, making sure all your people eat before you shall feast? Or shall you secure the safety of all your people, rescue them for before you ever take rest?”

“I solemnly promise I shall.”

“And will you promise that as long as you wear this crown upon your brow, that you shall serve this Kingdom until you breathe your final breath?” You could hear your father withholding a cough, his old age was the reason he had decided upon giving up his title, he feared if he did not coronate you now, that he’d be unable to do so when it was supposed to occur.

“I solemnly promise I shall.”

He rose the sword gently from one shoulder and let it grace the other with a gentle tap, finalising the ceremony “In the presence of your people and with this sword, I crown thee Queen (YN) of Ursia.” Returning his sword to its sheath, his hands gripping the crown as he beckoned your head forward, ready to place the crown upon your head.

The doors slammed open suddenly, being torn from their hinges by brute strength. The Ursian people sat in their seats, screamed in fear as the ungodly insignia came into view, with tentacles erupting from within the skull upon their armour, smeared with a shade of red that resembled freshly-spilt blood.

Hydra.

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