Chapter Text
A pair of eagles were in the sky, executing the well-choreographed dives of their courting ritual, before they vanished behind the Dracarex Hylls, a chain of volcanoes which bordered their neighbours in the north. The fiery peaks rested like the spikes of a great beast, who’d fallen into a restless sleep. Squinting to keep out the midday sun, Steve’s eyes traced over the towering mountains in the east toward the squat hills in the west, which curled back around like a tail.
South of the range, Valoria bloomed in a rainbow of colours. Red-orange earth gave rise to yellow fields and lush greens. Plenty of fish were to be found in their cerulean waters, and the sun-kissed highlands lay carpeted all year in the purples of heather, lavender, sage.
Armestria, her neighbour in the north, shimmered with silver and gleamed with gold. And when sunlight bounced off her land, it sparkled with the light of precious jewels gifted by the gods. The mountains of Armestria were troves of treasure, yet it was iron ore that her people mined in large volumes. Expert craftsmen toiled in the furnaces and smelted the metal for steel, which they used to forge swords, shields and armour, and they were the finest weapons in the seven realms.
From where he stood, Steve could hear the sounds of a hundred pairs of boots, marching around the mountains in time with the drumming of his heart. Valoria was soon to be home to these warriors, their brothers-in-arms.
And one of them was going to be his husband.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Steve looked up into a pair of pale blue eyes. “Of course, I do. War is on its way. Men are ready to lay down their lives. I’ve got no right to do any less.”
His mother sighed softly as she smoothed a hand over his windswept hair, letting it come to rest against his cheek. “This isn’t the same,” she said in a voice laced with concern. “Steve, this is your life. This is your happiness.”
Steve’s reply was already on his lips, and the practised words rolled smoothly off his tongue. “This is my duty. I’m not going to run from it.”
“Neither will Armestria. Just like us, they can't afford to lose this war. They will send us the weapons, with or without a wedding. You know that.”
“I do,” he said, well aware of King Howard’s mixed feelings regarding the alliance. He’d heard stories about how protective the king was, how Prince Anthony rarely left the castle and if he did, was never without his banner of trusted knights.
“But the prince is staying, to help us. He will need a home. And I – we can give him one.”
“You’re sure then?”
“I am,” he said. If King Howard was sending them the crown prince, his only child and heir, watching over him seemed like the very least he could do.
Sarah conceded defeat, accepting the outcome of this personal battle. For once a Rogers man had decided on something, be it a battle plan or life partner, they never changed their minds. “You’re a righteous king, Steve. And soon, you’ll be a loving husband.”
“I learnt from the best,” Steve said and took her hand in his as they shared a moment remembering his late father.
Sarah patted his hand with a mix of pride and regret. “I wish Joseph were here.”
“Father died with honour and glory. For Valoria.”
“For Valoria,” Sarah echoed quietly and allowed Steve to kiss her cheek and straighten the sleeve of her gossamer gown. He took her arm and led her to the shade of a birch tree, where she could wait more comfortably.
Steve could already hear Clint on his fiddle, and his friends voices singing that familiar melody. It was that cursed song - again.
Who's strong and brave
Here to save the Valorian way?
Who vows to fight like a king
For what's right, night and day?
Who will indeed lead the call for Valoria?
Who'll rise or fall, give his all for Valoria?
Who’s here to show that we can?
The shield-wielding king and his friends!
Steve fought an eyeroll and waited patiently for them to finish, but they merely went on to the next verse - this time focused on his husband-to-be.
Who's strong and brave
Here to save the Armestrian way?
Who vows to fight like a prince
For what's right, night and day?
Who will indeed lead the call for Armestria?
Who'll rise or fall, give his all for Armestria?
Who's loved, revered and adored?
The sword-forging lord with a hoard!
Despite the giggles, they made it through the verse, before falling under the tall oak into a heap of chuckles. Amidst the laughter, Clint groaned. “I broke something.”
“A carrot,” Natalia informed him as she picked up the broken halves and offered them to their horses. They made for a sight – a tangle of arms and legs, armour and weapons, but a wiser man was not to be fooled. These singing fools were the finest warriors south of the Dracarex Hylls.
“That’s it,” Steve said, having to raise his voice above the ruckus. “You’re crazy. My knights. The most celebrated warriors in the kingdom. And all of you are mad.”
Natalia was the first to rise. “Say what you want about us. We're not the ones marrying a complete stranger."
"Would you," Bucky asked, eyeing her closely as he dragged himself to his feet, "marry a stranger?"
She deflecting the question with one of her own. "Would you?" she asked in a low voice as a smile played on her lips.
"Yes, if they're as pretty as you, because you're really pretty when you smile."
“And when I don’t?”
“Devastatingly beautiful,” he told her, without missing a beat.
Sam snorted. “Smooth,” he said.
“Wow," Nat mouthed. "I hope you fight better than you flirt."
“You’ve fought me, remember? I won.”
“I dropped my sword to keep you from falling off the cliff."
“Still counts,” he said. “I disarmed you.”
“Mention that again and I’ll disarm you for real,” she said and playfully made a slicing motion at his left shoulder.
“Devastatingly beautiful,” Bucky repeated dreamily and placed a hand over his shoulder, right where Nat's hand had been.
Shaking his head, Steve took his leave and headed toward the rock formation in search of peace and quiet, with Bucky and Nat’s voices fading behind him. They were at it again, bantering like an old married couple. And while it was usually cute, today it was only making him more nervous than he already was.
Resting his legs on a large rock, Steve got out his knife and the conical object, whittling it down to streamline its shape. The quintessential child's toy, a spinning top, had long delighted children of all cultures, and Steve was no different. Time always seemed to stop as he watched it defy gravity to spin upright, as if by magic. Besides, it always seemed to slow his racing heart and gave his hands something to do.
Steve put down his knife to brush away the wooden shavings from the top, satisfied with the wide-bodied design and a shorter peg. A quick twist of his fingers and the spinner was twirling on its point, in a dizzying, mesmerising dance. He counted the seconds that passed - 105, 106, 107, before it lost its momentum and staggered on the last of its revolutions and came to rest on its side.
107 seconds. Not bad - but not quite enough.
It was an obsession, perhaps, this aspiration of creating the perfect spinner to defy the forces of nature, and spin forever in an eternal dance of joy. Indeed, he was a dreamer, as all his friends said, but even the stars had once been rocks that never ceased to rise.
He would try again, and maybe use Bruce's lodestones to create a force field the next time. Steve sighed at the thought of his dear friend missing his wedding, but the royal healer had been looking quite green in the face a few days ago, so he'd stayed behind in Shieldberg while the wedding party departed. It had only been a few days, but already Steve was beginning to miss his calm presence and wise counsel, which he desperately needed at the moment.
Rockhenge was an unusual venue for a royal wedding, but a terribly significant choice. A monument to honour fallen warriors on both sides of the war, it was a covenant between Armestria and Valoria to be a united force through good and bad times.
And, they had fallen on bad times indeed.
Dressed in mismatched armour, none of his knights looked like they were attending a wedding, but on their way to battle. And it made sense. They were gathered not to celebrate love, but to arm themselves for the impending war.
Steve used to dream of marrying for love, like his own parents had. But people couldn’t always have what they wanted, not when the fate of the universe lay in their hands, not when war was at their shores. As far as political matches went, Steve thought he'd truly struck gold.
Of all people, it had to be Prince Anthony. Over the years, he’d heard so much of the crown prince, and how clever, brave and kind he was. If there was some measure of truth in even half of those tales, he supposed they would get along.
They had to, after all.
Steve brushed away the perspiration trickling down his temples, wondering if the prince liked puddles, because he was melting into one. Then, a familiar arm was around his shoulder and holding him together. He didn’t even have to look up. “Bucky,” he sighed and leaned into the touch.
“I don’t see what the problem is. You, my friend, are about to marry the most desirable man in Armeria.”
Steve shrugged. “It’s an alliance. This arrangement here - it isn’t about me.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Right. It isn’t. You’re just half of it.”
“Bucky..."
“Okay, fine. It’s an alliance. So, treat it as one. The prince is bringing along his inventions, his weapons, his men, and they will help us win the war. We’ll take care of him, treat him as family.”
“I know. We’ll do that. But what if...” Steve said, before trailing off.
“What if?”
“What if he doesn’t like me?”
Bucky laughed. “Thought this arrangement wasn’t about you?” he teased. “Why wouldn’t he like you?” he asked, softer this time.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Steve said. “I’ve been told I’m headstrong, overbearing and sometimes, a bit dumb.”
“Sometimes?” Sam cut in, as he appeared from behind.
Bucky shot the other knight a glare. “Hey, look at me,” he said as he cupped Steve's cheek. “You’re the youngest king in the history of our kingdom, the first to be elected by unanimous vote. That has to mean something. It means - you’re special.”
“Special,” Steve echoed. “Everything special about me came out of a bottle. All this,” he muttered bitterly as he gestured to his body, “is the result of the super warrior potion. I’m nothing without it,” he spat.
Sam sat down beside him. “The potion amplifies everything that is inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse. Even without the potion, you’d still be somewhere between – amazing and incredible.”
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “When we were captured, you went behind enemy lines to rescue us. Sam, me – all of us - we’re alive today because of you. And when the dreadnought threatened to crash on our shores, you commandeered their ship and sank it to the bottom of the ocean, with nary a thought for your life.”
Sam nodded. “We live in a nation full of great men and women. And you’re the best of us. The prince is going to love you and you will get along just fine.”
“I hope so,” he said, truly feeling better. "Thank you," he added.
Bucky put his hands around Steve’s face and touched his forehead to Steve's. “Are we good now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” Sam said. “Because if you talk shit about our best friend again, king or not, we’re going to smite you.”
Steve laughed loudly, and Nat turned and look at them. From where they were, Bucky gave her a quick wave of reassurance.
“It’s nice,” Steve said.
Bucky raised his brows. “What?” he asked.
“Nat and you.”
Bucky stiffened. “There is no Nat and me. My loyalty is to you and our kingdom. I took an oath,” Bucky said, his tone defensive.
“It’s okay, Buck. No one is breaking any laws. All you have to do is ask. You already know my answer. Nat is not the most open person in the world, but she’s different with you.”
Bucky turned his head evasively. “No, Nat, she – she likes to flirt.”
“You like to flirt,” Sam said, correcting him. “But this thing that you both do - you're like albatrosses, dancing around each other in some sort of weird courtship ritual. They mate for life, by the way."
“What?” Bucky said, as he looked scandalised.
“You might as well make your move,” Sam said. “Now that someone is volunteering to take Steve off our hands.”
Steve ignored the comment. “Don’t wait too long,” was all he said while patting Bucky's back.
They continued to converse and jest until the sound of marching footsteps drowned out their laughter and reminded them of the imminent arrival of their allies, right before the auspicious hour. It was happening. He was getting married.
Married.
From his position, right in front of their billowing flags, Steve could see the king and queen exiting the royal carriage. They were waving at the crowd, but Steve recognised the grim expressions they wore. It was the same look on every parent’s face as they sent a child to the camps, where young children were baptised in the fire of combat, learning that death on the battlefield was the greatest glory. One would return from the camps Valorian.
Or not at all.
And it was to this life that they were sending their only son.
Trumpets blared as their red-and-white banners unfurled in the wind. Then, a herald stepped forward and introductions were made.
Howard was the first to extend his hand. “Steven, we finally meet. For years, we’ve been enthralled by your legend, regaled by tales of your honour, bravery and sacrifice.”
“Thank you,” Steve said, going for that tiny grey area between confidence and modesty. “You must know that the accounts of battles are often embellished.”
The queen held out her hand, which he kissed in greeting. “We know that the valiant efforts of you and your warriors have kept our flags flying on our soil.”
“Thank you,” he said, as he acknowledged the truth behind her words. Bordered by impenetrable mountains on the north, east and west, Armestria was vulnerable only in the south, where Valoria stood. So long as Valoria kept the invaders at bay, Armestria would be out of harm's way.
“Have you lost many?” she asked.
“No, not many,” Steve assured her. “Still, each of the fallen is a friend, our dearest blood."
“For years, your people have forged our freedom in the fires of war. Armestria will no longer watch from the shadows. Together, we will rise and face the monster that shrouds us in darkness. You have our weaponry. You have our cavalry. And, soon, you’ll have the best of us. Anthony, he’s...”
Steve was left to fill in the blanks. The apple of my eye, light of my life. My beloved child. Any of those would fit, judging from the sorrowful look in his eyes.
“He’s special,” King Howard finally said. “And we will grieve in his absence. But the oracle, Lord Strange, has spoken. And for some reason, he thinks – our boy is the chosen one.”
“If that is what the Sorcerer says, then it must be.” For Steve had never known the man to be wrong.
“I wouldn’t have agreed, had this arrangement been to another monarch. But everyone agrees that this is a good match. And Anthony – this is what he wants.”
This is what he wants. The words echoed in his ears and rang of promise. For the prince to put aside his freedom for his people, it was no wonder that they adored him.
A head of overgrown curls, adorned with a crown of gold and red rubies, came into sight. He was too far away for Steve to make out his features, but the soft hair, sharp jawline and the graceful curve of his neck made him the most beautiful person Steve had ever seen, and Steve was unable to look away from the magnetic presence who was Anthony Stark.
The prince made his way toward the party, closely followed by his knight and a younger-looking page. He stopped in front of Steve and flashed him a smile, his full lips parting to reveal a row of dazzling teeth. Steve stopped dead for a long moment, unable to move. It was only when Prince Anthony pressed his hands together to offer a bow that he snapped into action and touched the prince lightly to stop him. “We don’t do that anymore,” Steve explained.
“Oh shit,” the prince said as his right hand flew over his mouth. Then, his wide eyes were on Steve’s large hands which were holding his left.
“Fuck,” Steve replied, dropping the hand like it was burning coal.
Laughter erupted around them and the prince glowered at his knight and squire.
“This is Sir Rhodes, my first knight,” the prince said as he glared at the mirthful man, who was struggling to stifle his laughter as he took a bow. “And this is Peter, my cousin, and my page. For now.”
“Sorry, Tony,” the boy named Peter apologised, and turned to Steve. “My apologies, your majesty. I don’t mean any offence. I’m a long-time admirer of your work.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, not quite sure of what he meant. “Killing people?” he asked.
“Yeah. That, too. But also how you run your country. And I didn’t expect you to be so attractive. You know, you’re even more handsome in person than in those portraits.”
“Portraits?” Steve asked, confused.
“The ones of you that Tony commis -”
Peter didn’t finish, as the prince coughed loudly and turned red in the face. Then, they were all saved by the bell, indicating that the auspicious hour was upon them.
It was time to stand in a circle around the sacred rock.
While waiting, Steve stole a few glances at the prince, in his royal dress, crown on his head. No. This was no man of war. The prince belonged on a throne of plush velvet, where he would be handfed grapes and wine.
He would have gone on gaping if not for the catapult-launched projectile that landed in his mouth, which caused him to bite down and choke. On grape juice. Trickling down his chin.
Nat came to his rescue with a handkerchief and glared daggers at Clint, who bowed his head and looked suitably chastened, and Bucky, who just looked away, with two spots of pink high on his cheeks.
Steve froze when it was time to say the vows and Sam had to nudge him in the ribs. Thankfully, he’d rehearsed the words so many times that he managed to recite them, once he remembered it was his turn to speak. He barely looked away from the face of his husband. Husband, he thought with a flutter in his chest. He wondered how the prince of one of the most prosperous nations, was going to fit in with his family, and tolerate their simple ways and coarse manners?
The prince was looking at him expectantly, and Steve was confused. Bucky and Sam jostled for the best position to watch something, but Steve couldn't figure for what. It was Clint and his puckered-up lips, who finally reminded him that it was time for the customary kiss.
It was going to be fine. He’d practised. He just needed to lean over and press his lips against this smaller set of soft, pink pillows. The prince’s warm breath was against his skin and his eyes were already closed.
Wait. What. No. Too many people. Too soon.
Steve jerked away, and his lips connected with the swell of the prince’s cheek. Gold eyes flew open as Prince Anthony touched the side of his face as his lips spread into a smile. His large, expressive eyes crinkled up and he threw his head back in a laugh.
It was a sweet, melodious sound, and Steve wished to hear it again. And again. He knew he would do his best to make him laugh like that, every day, for the rest of their lives.
The end of the ceremony was marked by raucous cheers drowning out the soft chiming of bells. Joyful guests mingled over refreshments as they celebrated the union and the dazzling smile on Anthony's face only faded when the Starks came to say farewell. After accepting their congratulations, Steve excused himself to give them time to say their goodbyes.
He made his way to the horses and offered the juiciest apple from his satchel to his noble steed, before distributing the rest. For a while, he sat on the grass, content to watch the horses munching on their treats. After years of faithful service, Nomad was enjoying a well-deserved retirement. Steve had recently acquired Star, a brown stallion with an easy-going temperament and a diamond mark on his forehead, to take his place. Star nuzzled his nose into Steve’s chest and allowed him to stroke his glossy mane. Steve would do it for hours if he could, loving how it felt between his fingers.
At the sound of a throat being cleared, he looked up to find Prince Anthony staring down at him. There was a bright smile on his face, but the wet lashes and the hastily-brushed tear tracks on his cheeks did not go unnoticed. “Greetings, your majesty. For years, I've longed to meet you in person. I've heard so much about you - The Super Warrior, Living Legend, Symbol to the Kingdom, Hero to the World,” Tony recited, pausing to take a quick breath. “Forever may you reign.”
Steve quickly rose to his feet, and brushed off his titles like the dirt on his leggings. “Uh -" he began awkwardly. "I suppose you’d better call me Steve.”
“Steve,” he said, slowly, and his teeth were grazing lightly on his lower lip. “Everyone calls me Tony, so you might as well.”
“Sirs, the carriage is ready,” Sam informed them and Tony didn't bother hiding his disappointment.
“Oh. We aren't riding on horseback?”
“It’s tradition," Sam explained, "for the newlyweds to ride home by carriage, get to know each other better.”
“Oh but one can learn a lot about people - from the way they ride,” Tony pointed out, looking longingly at the horses.
“Are you a good rider?” Steve asked as he considered his request. While he was happy to give the prince free rein, the terrain was challenging at some points
“Rhodey!” Tony called, spying the knight nearby. “The king wants to know if I’m a good rider.”
Rhodes chuckled as he answered the question. “Sir, the prince is one of the best riders in the kingdom. You’ll see. He’s got a very impressive seat.”
Steve coughed and dutifully averted his eyes.
“He’s noticed,” Bucky said drily as he rode up on Blaze. Addressing Steve, he dropped his voice to a whisper, “It’s a horseriding term. No need to get all flustered, even if your new husband is very fetching.”
Tony turned to the horses. “Why the long face? Don’t want to pull the carriage?” The horse he was talking to let out a soft whinny, to which Tony responded, “Neigh? Right, I’ll tell the king.” He turned to Steve. “Did you hear that? Nay. Straight from the horse’s mouth.”
Steve bit back a grin, secretly pleased that of all the horses, Tony had singled out the horse Steve had chosen for him - a brown stallion with a long, white stripe down his forehead. He turned to the riders. “We ride on horseback,” he said.
Tony let out a whoop of joy and the others cheered, happy to go along with the change of plans.
Steve handed over the reins. "This is - ah - my wedding gift for you," he told Tony.
Tony’s eyes widened with surprise, before they sparkled with delight. “Of course, a horse! To celebrate a stable relationship. A stallion though? Thought you’d get me a mare for getting mare-ried!” he said, giggling at his joke.
Steve found himself laughing along. “It’s one of our traditions,” he explained. “It supposed to represent the start of a new journey - together.”
Tony let out a happy sigh. “I love your traditions.”
“And now they’re yours too,” he told him, softly.
They mounted their horses and made their way toward the front of the cavalcade when Tony pulled the horse he'd swiftly named Stripe to an abrupt stop.
“Is that – Is that a giant bird?” he asked, as he gaped. “Oh my God. That is a giant falcon,” he said. “How nice it is to fly,” Tony mused enviously as Sam climbed onto Redwing.
Steve couldn't help but smile as he recalled his own excitement when meeting Redwing for the first time.
On the sounding of horns, the riders were off.
It was a fine day for riding. The afternoon sun had mellowed and a cool breeze had blown in. Tony had been content to ride beside him at first, but by the time they were almost through the meadows, Tony had picked up the pace, occasionally pulling away from the rest of the group.
Steve waved at Bucky to take over. He was going after his husband, who had smiled broadly at him in invitation, before galloping off for the woods. Steve grinned at the unspoken challenge as he went in pursuit of the adventurous prince, who was already steering Stripe through the foliage, deeper into the forest.
In the dense vegetation, Steve lost sight of him a number of times, relying only on the sporadic sound of a cracking branch or a soft chuckle to know he was near. Several times, he got close but Tony always managed to elude him. Steve was amused. And proud. It was a test. Tony wanted to see what he was made of.
He was going to show him.
Tony was clever, but he was on Valorian soil, and Steve knew Conewood Forest like the back of his hand. He didn't take long to chase him past the wisterias to the edge of a cliff, which forced the prince to stop and dismount.
Steve led the thirsting horses to a brook, where he also filled a wooden canteen with cold, fresh water and offered some to Tony, who was busy making himself comfortable under a blooming tree.
“You caught me,” Tony said, a hint of awe in his voice. “No one’s ever done that before.”
Steve sank down beside him and leaned his back against the trunk. “You had me riding around in circles. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to run away."
“Running away? From you? Now, why would I do that?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eye. “But did you just leave our people behind just to come after me? Because that seems terribly, terribly irresponsible.”
Steve shrugged. “You’re my responsibility too,” he said.
Tony looked surprised. “Am I now?” he asked.
“Yes. It was part of my vows. Weren’t you listening?”
A bashful smile was on his lips. “I was distracted,” Tony said.
Steve laughed at the admission, relieved he hadn’t been the only one. “You mean them, don’t you? The vows?” he asked, because he had to be sure.
Tony shot him a look and schooled his face into a serious expression. “I do,” he said, solemnly, like he was repeating the vows, just for him. The teasing smile was back on his face in a moment. “You owe me a kiss,” he complained, “A proper one. Otherwise, the marriage won’t hold up.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” Steve asked, trying not to get lost in his gold-brown eyes.
“Nope,” Tony told him. “All our people are depending on it.” Then, he closed his eyes.
Steve leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Tony’s open mouth. The contact was short but electrifying, and Steve felt like a newly-struck match, as the warmth spread from his lips to his cheeks and the rest of his body.
It was magic.
For some time, they watched the sunset from the cliff. Steve wished they could linger, but the light was fading and it would soon get chilly. They had to catch up to the cavalcade, and make camp for the night.
He got to his feet and dusted himself off. “If we leave now, I could lead the way and show you all of our best views.”
Tony raised a brow. “Your best views, eh?” he teased, and Steve had to bite back a laugh when he caught Tony staring shamelessly at his rear. “Or you know what? We could race?"
Steve took Tony’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Why?” he asked. “In a hurry to get to our tent?”
Tony gasped with mock indignation. “As much as I appreciate your unbridled enthusiasm, I’ve done more than enough riding for the day. All ready to hit the hay. That’s all.”
“Ah,” Steve found himself saying, as he mounted his horse, both relieved and disappointed.
“If I win, I want another kiss,” Tony said, while he climbed onto Stripe.
Steve grinned. “And if I do?” he asked.
“You won’t,” Tony said, confidently. “But if you catch me,” he added, biting down on his bottom lip. “You can have anything you want.”
Steve had to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Sounds fair,” he said.
It was a long ride, the first of many in their journey together. He was about to mention it, but the prince had already gone. Steve laughed. Then, with a pull of the reins and a click of his tongue, he went after his husband.
They were going home.
