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stuckysbike · 1 year

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The Queen Who Married Two Kings

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Steve (pre-established Stucky)

Arranged Marriage AU, Fantasy AU, Royalty AU

Rating/Warnings: Over 18's only, there will be dark themes and explicit sexual situations. Reader is Stark born, and they're shitty to her.

Summary: Betrothed to two Kings, you travel with them to their home where you learn more than you ever thought you would. But how are you to cope with two husbands who want to start a family and secure their place in the world?

Chapter 1

“Your father demands an audience with you,” a droll voice said from the doorway of your dayroom. You lifted your eyes from the book in your lap and fixed the man with a scowl. He looked ridiculous in red velvet pants with gold piping. You hated the livery your father had his staff wear. It was neither practical nor attractive but it served well to display his wealth and, god forbid, taste. If one could call that taste.

“And I would like to slay a dragon but that won’t happen anytime soon,” you muttered under your breath levelling him with a sweet smile to make up for your earlier scowl. It wasn’t this man’s fault that you hated your father. It was your father’s fault.

“He’s rather insistent milady,” the voice said. He sounded weary, and you suspected he was rather bored. You were bored yourself but you didn’t want them to know that.

“I’m busy myself,” you lied smoothly. The man, slim and in his fifties with deep set eyes, let a flicker of annoyance pass his face. You didn’t recognise him, but he continued to stare stubbornly. Sighing you stood up and fixed your hair in the looking glass, brushed creases out of your dress and picked up the novel you had been reading. You darnt leave it lying around. Your father encouraged you to read this muck, yes, but you made sure there was proper reading within its covers. A pamphlet outlining changes to a tax law on tobacco would be frowned upon.

He had this ridiculous notion that women who read romance novels knew how to take care of a husband. The last thing you wanted was a husband like those described in the novels, or a man like your father or brothers.

“Milady, if you please,” the man said again, his voice thinning on patience.

“Alright!” You snapped as you turned and headed out the doorway, not bothering to wait for him. You knew the trail to your father’s study well, knew all the shortcuts and quick escapes, so naturally, you took the long way.

Around you portraits of your ancestors peered down their noses as you and you resisted the childish urge to stick your tongue out at them. You slowed a few times to peer out the windows but you could delay no longer.

Your father, King Howard, a greying man in his sixties, was waiting for you behind a large oak desk that had suffered garish carvings before being placed here, another symbol of his wealth and power. Beside him stood your brother Tony, his heir. It was no secret that Tony was your father’s favourite child. Everyone had assumed that, as the only daughter, you would also be favoured, but this wasn’t so. You weren’t the sweet child he dreamed of; instead you were strong willed and wild, defying him at his every turn. Your education was still a sore point for you both; he felt you had received too much, you felt you didn’t receive enough.

“Father,” you dipped your chin slightly, knowing he preferred when women curtsied to him, but today it seemed as he had more pressing matters than dredging up old fights. You stood in the centre of the plush rug that lay before the desk letting your heels sink in deep, hoping to damage the carpet.

Tony scowled at you, he’d always had some sort of resentment towards you, and you often wondered if it was because you were a girl and perhaps he was worried that he would no longer be your fathers favourite. That resentment turned to distaste at the way you acted with your father.

“Daughter,” your father said, his voice weary, and you knew he was expecting a fight. “You’re to be married.”

You pursed your lips; it was rare that your father got straight to the point. You filed this away to examine later.

“Married. I’m barely nineteen,” you said. Marriage was not what you wanted from life. To have children to a man who wouldn’t love you, to a man like your father who’d had three wives, who’d driven your own poor mother to despair with his appetite for other women.

“And if I’d had my way you would have been married three years ago but your mother pleaded with me…” He sighed deeply, no doubt looking for sympathy for having another dead wife. You had none to give; he had driven your mother to the grave.

“Does my husband have a name or shall he remain anonymous until I meet him at the alter?” You asked.

“Husbands,” your father moved something on his desk then shuffled some papers. He was nervous, you thought, very unlike him.

“Husbands? Plural?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed. You know of the alliance between King James and King Steven,” Howard said.

Everyone knew of their alliance; it had caused quite the scandal three years ago when they wed and decided to unite their countries. They had once been one land and very few people residing there resisted, but kingdoms such as your fathers and that of your neighbours such as the Odinsons had been most wary.

It seemed your father had found a way to protect himself yet again.

You knew all about the neighbouring kingdom of Farotaide, it was part of your education to be up to date on this. The kings lived in a large castle at the edge of the woods on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was said to be beautiful.

Farotaide was a cold place, with sharp winds even in the summertime, and prone to snow half the year round. The people ruled under the kings were hardened, warriors, blacksmiths and butchers, crops were grown, winter crops consisting mostly of root vegetables and potatoes, all the year round. They were a harsh people and the women fought as quickly as the men did. Their ale was bitter and their wine sour, but they were clever engineers, and they had a lot of land and forest under their control. This would be a strategic union.

But you would be wife to two husbands. How would that even work? They would be twice as demanding of you, but then, knowing what you did about their culture and society, it was worth the gamble. Perhaps you wouldn’t fight, and instead agree to this union.

“I agree,” you said after a moment’s pause. Tony scowled, expecting a fight he didn’t receive, and even her father looked shocked for half a second.

“Oh, that’s good then, I’m sure you have a lot to prepare, you will be married soon no doubt, there’s little point in dallying with these things,” he said clearly dismissing you.

You did not go back to your rooms, instead you went to the library, and headed into the map room from there. You found Farotaide easily, they controlled about a third more land than your father. There were notes on climate, terrain, population, and agriculture and battle tactics on the margins. You studied until you needed to change for dinner.

Your father sat at the head with his sons around him, Tony to his right with his new wife Pepper clutching his hand like a sheep. You hated her, hated them all as they discussed your upcoming nuptials. “The Kings will be here next week, and all being well, you’ll be married within the month,” your father said clasping his hands together.

“I’ll be going to live with them I assume.” You said as you pushed the food around your plate. You had lost interest in your food.

“Of course.” Your father said.

“Then I’ll need a new wardrobe,” you said.

Tony snorted and Pepper covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “Another excuse to spend father’s money,” he said.

“No, but Brooklyn where the keep their kingdom seat is located is a much colder climate than ours, I don’t think delicate silken dresses will do me much good in the winter do you father?” You said smiling at him. The pale blue dress you wore now was a favourite, but it wasn’t practical for where you were going.

“Our father is already putting up a dowry just to get rid of you, and paying for your wedding nuptials. I doubt he’ll be dressing you after next week. Let your husbands take care of it,” Tony said tossing his napkin onto his plate and leaning back in his chair.

“Someday, my dear Tony, father will be dead, and this will be your land, your home, your very table. And someday, dear brother, I’ll sit here at this very table, and I’ll embarrass you in front of your peers as you wish to embarrass me in front of my new family. It would be insulting to send me there without appropriate attire, I will not start my marriage on an insult,” you said sweetly.

“Oh, do shut up sister.” Tony said standing up.

“I’m bored of this anyway,” you said standing too. “I’m afraid I feel one of my headaches coming on, father, I shan’t be good company this evening. I’ll head back to my bedroom and take a long rest.”

“Off you go out of my sight,” Your father snapped. Tony spoke loudly.

“I hope the kings at least gets one good son out of her before she turns into a simpering mess,” he said. Everybody laughed and you clenched her fists. You paused, took a deep breath, and smiled sweetly as you walked to your room, already plotting your revenge.

Your father, you believed, informed his friends and allies before he informed the Two Kings that their proposal, and thus their alliance, had been accepted.

There was to be a Royal Wedding and it would be a glorious affair. Afterall it is not often that a princess marries two kings at once!

The Wakandans were first to arrive, followed by the Odinsons two days later. You watched the pomp and ceremony from your room, your father and brothers were keen to greet their neighbours, to use this social event to network. It made you sick to your stomach to see them act so, but you lifted your chin, hardened your eyes, and gave your guests that tight, slight smile that your mother taught you so many years ago.

More prestigious guests arrived, each trying to outdo the last with their opulence, but the worst was King Howard insisting that everyone wear their best, that his whores were well hidden and that you stayed as the meek and dutiful daughter before everyone.

Noticeably absent was your intended husbands, and your father was insistently vocal about this. You couldn’t recall ever meeting any nobles from Farotaide, but you were eagerly curious to see how they arrived. You wondered what sort of spectacle they would bring; clearly, they wanted to make an arrival and cause a scene. You were beginning to regret agreeing so easily. Eventually you decided them arrogant and rude, they clearly had little interest in getting to know you prior to the nuptials.

You were preparing for bed when you heard it, a deep rumble like thunder in the distance.

Wrapping your favourite wool cloak around your shoulders you made her way down the servants’ staircases and headed through the kitchens and outside to the battlements. Beside you one of your fathers’ watchers shifted nervously as he peered into the darkness. A mass of black was streaming towards you in a line, loud thunderous thuds carrying through the dark night. For a moment you feared you were under attack until a cloud shifted, and moonlight drenched across meadows around your father’s palace.

Two hundred men and women galloped towards you on horseback.

They stopped, preparing to make camp and a small party moved forward while the rest effortlessly blended into the trees that lined the meadows. You made your way to the courtyard, your soft soles quiet on the dry cobblestones, trying to keep a smile off your face. You liked the entrance the Northerners had made in contrast to the grandeur and finery everyone else made. They weren’t showing off, and you had the feeling they didn’t need to, this was just how they operated. Suddenly your anger at them turned to amusement.

“And you are?” A guard was saying, his tone tight. His knuckles were white as he gripped the spear in his hand, and you could help but think the foolish weapon looked useless to these warriors.

“James Barnes, my husband, Steve Rogers.” A gruff voice said. You quickened her step towards the gates to get a better look at the two men.

“We weren’t expecting you now,” the guards voice said.

“When did you expect us?” Steve asked, his voice louder than James.

“Daylight hours, I’d imagine,” you spoke up taking pity on the guard. You stepped forward and pulled your cloak around your throat. Both men met your eyes, and the shiver that ran down your spine was not entirely due to the cold.

“Well, we’re here now,” James said with a sly curl of the lips.

“Indeed, you are. Have someone announce to King Howard that his wayward guests have arrived,” the gatekeeper commanded giving you the stink eye. You couldn’t resist sticking your tongue out at him, but Steve’s voice distracted you. You didn’t miss the short smile the two men shared at your behaviour.

“We are at a disadvantage. You know who we are, but we have no idea who you are,” Steve spoke up. You stepped back as the small band of men and their horses made their way inside the castle walls.

You toyed with the idea of stringing them along and telling the men you were someone else, but you decided on straight up honesty. It wouldn’t do to start their relationship on that sort of note.

“I’m to be your wife, or so I’m told,” you said. James glanced down at you. He was tall, broad shouldered and terribly handsome with a few days’ worth of dark stubble on his chin. His eyes looked blue in the dim torchlight but you liked what she saw. Steve on the other hand sat taller on his horse. He didn’t seem as thick as James but he had a full head of thick blond hair and a well grown beard.

“Ah, our wife you say?” James said with a coy smile. Your heart fluttered a little, people rarely looked at her like that, but James’ eyes were raking your body, and while Steve kept more reserved he was just as curious you could tell.

“Why did you arrive at dark?” You asked curiously. Steve stared at you for a second but a voice behind you interrupted them.

“Please ignore my silly little sister, she has no manners. My name is Tony, I’ll be inheriting, I’m to be your brother in law.” Tony said pushing past Lydia to shake James’s hand. James, who was still holding the reins of his massive horse, looked from Tony’s face to his hand and back again before turning to you.

“I like the dark,” James said ignoring the horse nosing at his arm. Behind him Steve made a noise you didn’t understand, and you didn’t miss the flicker of something in James’ eyes.

“The stables are this way. Our grooms can take care of your horses.” Tony said pushing past you to gain attention.

“We’ll take care of our own horses, he had the decency to carry me here without complaint, it’s the least I can do.” Steve corrected Tony but he was looking at you. “I always take care of what’s mine.”

“Good, I like a man who knows what he’s doing.” You smirked, and when both men smiled at you, you realised that your heart was racing.

“Stop being vulgar and go away,” Tony hissed in your ear, his eyes flashing dangerously in the moonlight.

“I think I prefer her company to yours,” James said bluntly. You almost laughed aloud at the rage building on Tony’s face.

“Oh, I know where I’m not wanted,” you said in a teasing voice, shooting a wink at James as you turned on your heel and headed back inside. Perhaps leaving the two Kings to your brother’s attentions was a poor strategic move but you were sure you they would understand. It didn’t do for a princess to stand outside in the night talking to her betrothed. As you slid into bed you smiled, wondering what the next days would bring.

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