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’After the marriage of the Barnes prince to Clint Barton, the Barnes retinue began the long journey from Stark lands, back to the coast where they would sail to the Barnes kingdom. It was not until this journey that the Barnes Prince discovered the rumours that followed Clint Barton, of his unnatural parentage…’
Clint whistled loudly for his hound as everyone dismounted. Bucky had been surprised by his new husband’s love for the dog when he had first seen the creature; it was poorly bred, and no use for hunting, with an eye missing. However, Clint had introduced it as Sénta with a fond smile, and the dog had kept up with them through the day as they rode.
The setting up of their camp was quick, with Clint pulling his weight alongside the rest of the men. It cemented Bucky’s earlier estimation of him as a man of character. He’d known many noble men who expected to be waited upon on the road as if they were still at home with a full retinue of servants. Clint, however, did not need to be told that every man was expected to pull his own weight. He had a deft way with the animals, helping to picket and rub down the horses as Bucky lent his strength to the raising of the tents. All the while Sénta followed calmly at his heels, never once spooking the horses.
As they worked, Bucky saw some of the men watching Clint from the corner of their eyes. He could understand their curiosity; Clint was a strange man in strange circumstances. He dressed in nothing finer than most of the men did, with the only notable exceptions being the finery he’d worn for first greeting Bucky at King Anthony’s stronghold and for their wedding. If not for the exquisite bow he carried and the cloak he wore that matched Bucky’s, one might think he was no more than a woodsman or footsoldier.
Bucky, however, was more interested in observing the graceful way he moved, and the small smile he wore as he rubbed down the horses while murmuring soothingly to them. It seemed he had married a beautiful, kind man.
It was a theme of his observations that night. Around the fire, Clint made sure that everyone had been served before he took his own food. He gave his seat to one of the younger pages when he noticed her shivering and instead stood at the back of the group. He even insisted on being added to the watch roster like everyone else. Bucky couldn’t help but smile and reach out a hand to press his shoulder every time they passed each other.
Bucky was quite happy that his father had begun the journey three days ahead of them, or he was sure that George would be horrified by how obviously smitten he was. Steve, however, was quite happy to fill the role, rolling his eyes every time he caught Bucky smiling stupidly after his new husband.
‘I thought better of you,’ Steve said, shaking his head. ‘Falling over yourself for a pretty face was never like you.’
Bucky wrinkled his nose, ‘He’s more than just a pretty face, you ass. Have you not noticed how kind he is? How he always ensures that everyone else is comfortable before himself? His very soul is noble. I am lucky that he agreed to have me, despite my foolishness.’
Steve was unmoved by his words. ‘I truly thank all the gods you never decided to become a poet; if I had to suffer through that every time you spoke, I would throw myself into the sea.’
There was a laugh from Bucky’s shoulder as Clint stepped over to them, his boots seeming to barely disturb the grass.
‘Surely my husband’s poetry couldn’t be so dire as all that,’ he said, and Bucky was sure he could die happily hearing the way his voice curled beautifully around the word husband. He said it like a promise. Like a spell that bound them, tighter and tighter with every repetition. ‘Though I am quite sure none of us three could be accused of having silver tongues.’
Steve opened his mouth to agree before Bucky saw it dawn on him that Clint had insulted him as well. Bucky could only laugh.
‘Well, if that’s how this is going to be, then perhaps I should retire to bed,’ Steve said, thrusting his nose into the air and stalking off.
Clint’s face fell. ‘Should I offer an apology?’ he murmured. ‘I meant no offence.’
Bucky shook his head. ‘He is less offended than he would have you think,’ he assured Clint. ‘It is simply that very few people are able to catch him off guard like that, and fewer would attempt it, given our friendship; they fear offending me through him. He’ll have forgiven any offence by morning, and likely feel rather sheepish over his abruptness.’
‘If you are sure,’ Clint nodded. He looked around them at the peaceful forest clearing. They had ended up several yards distant from the camp as Steve and Bucky had long been in the habit of wandering as they talked. Now Bucky watched as Clint realised that they were truly alone for the first time that day.
‘Are you troubled with apprehensions?’ Bucky asked quietly, suddenly fearing that Clint was regretting his choices. In many ways, he still could not believe that the beautiful archer had not only agreed to marry him, but also to travel far from his own home to share Bucky’s.
‘Not apprehensions,’ Clint said with a sly smile. ‘I had been hoping we might have some time together before we arrive in your homelands. Married though we might be, I still know very little about you. I’ve also had few chances to kiss you the way I would like to.’
Bucky felt his heart begin to race as excitement thrummed in his veins. To have Clint’s blue eyes locked on his, pinning him in place as he declared his intent... It was exhilarating.
‘May I kiss you?’ Clint asked, cupping Bucky’s cheek with one hand. Bathed in moonlight, he looked like a gift given by the gods. He felt like one. Bucky could barely breathe.
‘I would be honoured,’ he murmured, savouring the heat of Clint’s palm radiating into him. He leaned every so slightly forward, or maybe Clint did, he was never sure, but their lips met. Bucky couldn’t help but allow the quietest of whimpers to escape at the sensation. It was everything he had ever wanted. Clint made no effort to rush him or overpower him; he simply pressed their lips together softly, over and over, coaxing Bucky until they were both smiling and breathless with giddiness.
‘I will devote myself forever to whichever god saw fit to bless me with you,’ Clint said, his breath ghosting over Bucky’s lips as he spoke. ‘I have done nothing to deserve such bliss, but I am too selfish to ever let this go.’
‘I’ll not have you insult my husband,’ Bucky said with a smile. ‘I demand you apologise for calling him selfish; my beloved is a kind hearted man.’
Clint laughed, then kissed him again, still cradling Bucky’s face in one hand, the other placed gently over his heart.
‘I have wanted to do that for quite some time now,’ Clint said, eyes sparkling with a smile.
‘No doubt as long as I have wanted you to do it,’ Bucky replied, swaying forward. ‘I have longed for the taste of your lips since first I saw them. They are sweeter than I could ever have imagined.’
‘Oh for Lugh’s sake,’ Steve grumbled from behind them. ‘I appreciate that you are in love, but you’re needed, Bucky.’
The quiet curse that slipped from Bucky’s lips had Clint chuckling again.
‘Go, see to your men,’ Clint said, drawing back from him. ‘We can continue when there are fewer pressing matters to attend to.’
‘I wish that there were none; that we could stay like this forever,’ Bucky said, grasping Clint’s hands in his to press a kiss to his knuckles.
‘As do I,’ laughed Clint. He squeezed Bucky’s hands and pushed him gently. ‘Go. I will await you by the fire.’
Bucky grumbled to himself as he walked away. They’d barely had a moment to themselves and already his men were calling. He’d thought them better trained than to run for his aid at the first hiccup. If it was less than the direst emergency he was going to be less than please. He’d very much been enjoying himself.
By the time he’d dealt with the matter, it was far too late in the evening to do anything besides bed down for the night. Clint drifted off to sleep almost as soon as they’d sequestered themselves in their tent, apparently either thoroughly exhausted by the day’s ride, or utterly unbothered by the hard ground beneath them. Bucky could only hope that tomorrow would bring further opportunity to be alone with his husband. Perhaps an earlier rest would provide such an opportunity.
The fates were conspiring against him. They’d been riding for four days and expected to reach the port tomorrow and still Bucky had barely had a moment alone with his beloved. He’d taken to calling for earlier and earlier rests but Steve had put a stop to that with news of muttering among the men. Bucky knew he had to show that he wasn’t turning into some lovestruck fool, but he desperately wanted a chance to discover more of his husband. Preferably while wearing as few clothes as possible.
The men seemed not to have lost their curiosity about Clint, following him with their eyes wherever he went, and whispering when he passed by them, Sénta at his heels. Bucky was beginning to fear that Clint would become offended by the stares. He decided to have a word with Steve when they made camp that night, to ensure he would have the men back in line and acting courteously again.
Glancing at the horizon, he determined that they were making good time, and perhaps even regaining the time lost to early camps. Bucky was forced from his thoughts as Clint drew alongside him.
‘We are being watched,’ Clint said, under his breath. Sénta had come to trot along beside his horse, quieter than usual. Perhaps even the dog had tired of the endless whispers.
‘I can only apologise for my men, dear heart,’ Bucky said. ‘I will have Steve speak with them tonight. It is unfair of them to treat you as a curiosity, when you are one of us now.’
Clint shook his head. ‘No, have the men prepare, quietly,’ he said, meeting Bucky’s eye. ‘There are eyes in that copse of trees before the next hill. We’re being watched.’
Bucky nodded and spurred his horse forward to draw level with Steve. He gave instructions in an undertone, then dropped back to ride with Clint. He knew that Steve would prepare the men for trouble and he didn’t want to tip the watcher off by doing something unusual. He had his sword sheathed at his side out of habit and Clint was never without his bow. He kept a wary watch around him as he rode. For all his training and instincts, he still could not see the danger that Clint had sensed.
Were it not for Clint’s reputation, little though Bucky knew of it, as an archer of uncanny skill, Bucky might have begun to think that Clint had simply imagined whatever threat he had seen. The road seemed quiet.
No sooner had the thought appeared in Bucky’s mind, an arrow hit the dirt worryingly close to his horse’s hooves. Bandits swarmed from the trees, weapons raised. There were more than Bucky had anticipated.
Clint swore and drew his bow, and Bucky could only marvel as he began firing, still seated in his saddle by only the strength of his own thighs. His horse was marvellously trained, responding instantly to every shift of Clint’s weight, allowing him to hit every target he aimed at. The muscles in his shoulders rippled as he drew and released the string and Bucky had to swallow hard. He was very nearly unseated in his distraction when his horse reared and lashed out at a bandit that was suddenly in their path. Bucky cursed and drew his sword.
The fight was brutal. Bucky’s men were well trained, but an ambush was still an ambush, and the bandits were vicious and bloodthirsty, trying to break through the ranks to get at the supplies that were hidden in the back. Bucky refused to allow it, not when the noncombatants hadn’t had time to retreat.
An arrow lodged itself in the throat of one of the bandits who had gotten a little too close to the wagons, and he fell without a sound. Bucky’s eyes flew to Clint, but he had already moved his attention to another target.
‘Reinforcements!’ someone cried, and Bucky saw a band of riders crest the hill to the North of them. He almost wept at the thought of more bandits, but then he heard Clint’s joyful laughter. He looked closer and realised that the new riders seemed familiar, and appeared to be armed mainly with bows.
Before he could ponder the situation further, Bucky was drawn into conflict with three of the mounted bandits. He was hard pressed to keep them engaged and away from the wagons. One of them scored a lucky strike along his horse’s shoulder and she screamed in pain. Bucky didn’t have a hand to gentle her. He grit his teeth and swung at the closest bandit, crossing swords in a resonant clash of steel. The man lurched forward and slid from his horse. As he fell, Bucky could see an arrow protruding from his back.
He had no time to waste. He spun towards the next enemy, only to discover Steve had fought his way to Bucky’s side and dispatched the remaining bandits. In the lull, Bucky looked around. The bandits were suffering loss after loss. He spotted a few of his own men retreating with injuries. One or two were down. He prayed they still lived and could be tended to. Clint was still resplendent on the back of his mare, shooting arrow after arrow.
Their unknown allies had drawn close enough that Bucky could see their leader, a broad man with fiery red hair and features that were familiar enough that Bucky could have named him even if they hadn’t already met at the wedding.
‘My brother!’ Barney called out jovially. ‘It seems fortune is smiling upon you once again. One of my men heard the commotion and fetched us to aid you. I am glad he did, or we might have fallen into the bandits’ trap next.’
Clint trotted over, laughing a little breathlessly as he watched the last of the bandits retreating. ‘A good thing we spotted them and were prepared, then,’ he said.
‘We did no such thing,’ Steve said, staring at Clint incredulously. ‘It was you who alerted us to their presence.’
‘I am native to these lands. I know this road well and was prepared for trouble, should it arise. Yon forest,’ he said, pointing, ‘is a favoured haunt of bandits. I do not doubt that Bucky would have spotted them himself, given but a moment more.’
‘But I was not the one to spot them,’ Bucky said, determined for Clint to accept the praise. ‘You were the one to ensure we were ready when they attacked.’
‘You shouldn’t be so modest, brother,’ Barney interjected with a smile. There was something strange about it, almost teasing, Bucky thought. ‘You always did have the keenest eyes of all of us. Keen eyes and a keener aim.’
Bucky took a moment to appraise his brother-in-law, having had few interactions with him before he and his band had left King Stark’s halls mere days after the wedding. He was a rough looking man, with rough looking followers, and Bucky had yet to discern the truth of why he spent his time travelling rather than remaining at home and supporting his uncle’s lordship over their lands. Clint seemed at ease with him, however, and Bucky was willing to trust his husband’s judgement in the matter, as much as Barney had grated on Steve at the wedding feast.
‘Sir Barney, I must thank you for your timely intervention,’ Bucky said.
Barney frowned. ‘None of that Sir nonsense,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve married my brother, have you not? I believe that also makes you my brother. Use my name.’
‘You’re very kind, Barney,’ Bucky replied, ‘and you should be welcome to call me Bucky.’ He ignored the sounds of Steve spluttering behind him.
‘We should rest for a time,’ Clint said, dismounting. ‘The men will need to recover their sensibilities, and we will need to catalogue the damages. Barney, will you and your men join us for some food?’
Barney slid from his own horse with a grin. ‘We would be honoured, if my new brother does not mind?’
‘Not at all!’ Bucky replied. ‘Join us and be welcome. We would be poorly provisioned indeed if we could not stretch our means to share a meal with you and your men after such favour as you have shown us.’
Barney bowed his thanks as Clint shot a heated grin at Bucky. Bucky swallowed deeply before he slid from his own horse. He would never refuse hospitality to a relative of his husband, but if such smiles were his reward, he would be more than happy to make nice with a whole host of brothers-in-law. Steve captured his attention with a deep sigh.
‘And what exactly are we preparing as a meal?’ he asked. ‘We are well provisioned, it is true, but we still have many days to travel.’
‘My men and I were actually out here hunting,’ Barney said, turning to Bucky once more. ‘We would be happy to provide from the hares that we have already caught, or we could continue on our hunt and return with something a little heartier.’
‘The hares will be quite enough, I’m sure,’ Bucky said, hoping to cool Steve’s temper before an argument could brew. ‘It is very kind of you to offer the fruits of your labours, when it is I who invited you to dine with us.’ Many might have been offended by such a thing, though Bucky had learned enough of his husband’s family to know that neither of the brothers were overly concerned with proper etiquette.
Steve huffed and stalked off, grumbling something about seeing to the wounded. Bucky knew he should join him, and so left Clint and Barney to get re-acquainted, laughing to himself as Sénta bounded up and jumped at Barney.
Everyone seemed to be watching the brothers from the corner of their eyes while they worked, and Bucky was frankly getting tired of it.
‘I know that Clint is breathtaking,’ he muttered to Steve as they set about organising a camp, ‘But I simply cannot understand why they feel the need to always be watching him.’
Steve sighed deeply. ‘You have to understand,’ he began, ‘that I was never going to tell you any of this. It seemed beyond ridiculous and I did not wish to trouble you when you were newly married.’
‘Steve, I’ll thank you to allow me to decide whether or not I ought to be troubled,’ Bucky growled. ‘Do the men take issue with my beloved?’
‘No!’ Steve yelped, ‘In fact, they rather admire him. It’s just… that… well... ‘
‘For the sake of the gods, spit it out,’ Bucky said, waving a hand.
‘There are rumours that Clint is something more than human,’ Steve said all in one breath.
Bucky had to pause for a moment to understand exactly what it was that Steve had just said. ‘Rumours? What do you mean?’
Steve sighed. ‘It seemed so ridiculous when I first heard,’ he said. ‘Honestly, I had thought it was all just gossip that had grown wildly out of control. It seems that rumours have followed him since he was a child; that people believe Clint is a changeling, or a bastard half-fae, rather than the true son of Harold Barton. Sir Barney’s men spoke of it before the wedding, and I thought it was nothing more than rumour.’
Bucky could only stare at him. ‘You thought?’ he said, incredulous. ‘You no longer believe that to be true? You truly believe he’s a changeling? Steve, this is utterly ridiculous!’
‘I truly believed so! And yet, none of our men, tried in battle though we all are, none spotted the ambush. Even after the warning, I could see no sign. And, Bucky, he never missed a single shot with that bow of his. You’ve seen the way he shoots. What’s more, you’ve seen the way the animals react to him. He’s more than just good with them. I begin to wonder. It seems so unlikely that any man could have the skills that he has,’ Steve explained, growing more and more passionate as he got into his stride.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Bucky declared. ‘I will not have you, or indeed any of my men, spreading rumours and gossip that, I am sure, was first intended as an insult to my husband. I am putting an end to it now.’
He stomped away, returning to where Clint and Barney had settled into the dirt by the side of the road to speak.
‘Are you alright, beloved?’ Clint asked, seeing his no doubt furious expression. ‘What is troubling you? Is everyone alright?’
Bucky threw himself to the ground and dropped his head to his hands. ‘I have discovered that my men, including my closest friend, are superstitious imbeciles,’ he moaned.
Clint reached out and gently began rubbing his back. If Bucky had been looking, he would have seen Barney pressing his fist to his mouth to contain laughter.
‘That does indeed sound troubling,’ Clint said. ‘What have they found to be superstitious about? Is it something dangerous?’
‘I can assure you,’ Barney said, ‘That if my men have been spreading tales of this forest already, then I will speak with them. The stories are only that. After all, it was while passing through this area that our mother gave birth to Clint, and they are both quite alright all these years later; no fae have come to steal either of them away.’
‘And I will add my assurances,’ Clint said, still rubbing soothing circles between Bucky’s shoulder blades, ‘that if Barney and his men have been spreading tales of my origins that I will not be offended. He has long made sport of trying to convince any who will stand still long enough that I am some sort of half-fae changeling rather than the full human that I am. Your men no doubt heard the rumours in the palace.’
Bucky startled at that, then rounded on Barney, all the more furious. ‘You would harm your own brother’s standing for sport? And accuse your own mother of being unfaithful?’
Barney only laughed, which served to further Bucky’s rage. ‘I would accuse my mother of a great many things,’ he said. ‘Though she was always unfortunately loyal to those who had not earned it. As for my brother’s reputation, well… We are Bartons; our reputations suffer enough from that alone.’
Clint shook his head. ‘There is no need for anger,’ he said, stroking a soothing hand down Bucky’s spine. ‘It is a useful enough rumour at times that I do not mind it.’
Bucky raised his head and held Clint’s eye for a long moment.
‘I do not claim to understand everything of which you speak,’ he declared, ‘But, if you say you are happy and do not suffer for it, then I shall take you at your word and discard my anger. I would only ever seek to increase your happiness and I shall not take offense at something that you do not.’
Clint smiled softly at him, ‘I thank you,’ he said. ‘Perhaps one day, I shall tell you the entirety of how the story came about and why I felt it necessary to allow it to persist. Today, however, should be a happy day. Shall we eat?’ He stood and offered a hand to Bucky.
Bucky took his hand and allowed Clint to pull him to his feet. It was… intoxicating, thinking of just how strong his husband was to be able to do so with such ease.
‘Well, if the two of you are going to be gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes for much longer, then I believe I will go find myself some food,’ Barney said, standing too. When Bucky looked away from Clint, he could see the calculating look Barney wore.
‘Right, food,’ Clint said, his cheeks turning a little red. Sénta barked in agreement.
Bucky clasped his husband’s hand and smiled.
...It was after the defeat of these bandits that Barney and his band of warriors was invited to join the Barnes men to sit around the fires and eat with them. Clint’s fae-touched skills were praised loudly, and with much singing, while Barney declared Bucky a second brother to him and heaped many blessings upon the happy couple.