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The first time he saw the common countryside knight, Prince Steven knew he was in love. Sir James was invited to Court after the Battle of Whitebridge where his reputation as the Winter Soldier spread to the castle. Sarah, the queen and Steve’s mother, wanted to meet the knight they said was untouchable on the field. A ghost story, their enemy nation claimed. Fast. Strong. Nerves of steel. He had fought in the service of Steve’s father, who lost his life in the war.
When the knight crossed the throne room to kneel in front of his Queen and Prince, he looked nervous and unsure. Not unusual. Countrymen are not used to the life and rules and customs of the palace and capital. All of the nobility and courtiers and servants were probably a bit overwhelming. Still, Sir James paced his way forward and took a knee as natural and smooth as if he’d been doing it every day of his life.
“Rise, Sir James,” The Queen said. “Let me look upon the face they say means death if seen by enemies’ eyes.”
Sir James did stand and lifted his chin, and Steve’s heart pounded hard against his chest. If that face meant death, then he would gladly welcome it if the face of an angel was the last thing he saw.
“You have served your Queen and country well,” Sarah announced for the whole court to hear. “As such, I hereby extend an invitation welcoming you to join the Royal Ranks. You may join the prince’s household and serve in Steven’s name and honor.”
An honor, indeed, and a goal of the most ambitious of men, especially for someone of Sir James’s status. He may have been a knight, and as such, descended from nobility, but he had grown up common -- the son of a farmer -- and that reputation would follow him even as part of Steve’s guard. Instead of looking pleased or glad of the gift, Sir James looked… disappointed. But he bowed to the Queen, and accepted her offer.
“A generous gift, Your Majesty,” he said, and his voice swept across Steve’s ears like silk. “Most humbly received with grace and gratitude. I hope my presence will see His Royal Highness in good health and happiness.”
Joining Steve’s Household meant lazier days than being out on the fields with men to command, as James had done for the king during the war. It meant a life of following the Prince around. It meant tournaments. It meant feasts and balls and banquets.
It meant Steve having to watch him for a full year jousting in his name and honor, and accepting tokens from nobles’ daughters and dancing with them at balls and making them smile and laugh. It meant catching him more than once stealing kisses in thought-to-be-private halls. It meant Steve blushing nearly every time they caught eyes.
Steve liked watching James in the training arena, moving over sawdust and dirt as he worked himself into a heavy sweat. Steve had even sparred with him once or twice, and found him quite the worthy opponent, even if James ultimately, under grace of loyalty, allowed Steve the courtesy of a win. Steve had always hated such a thing, but the law commands death to anyone who knowingly endangers royalty. No one knew about Steve’s secret training with Sir Nicholas -- Captain of the Queen’s Guard -- who never went easy on him.
He liked watching James dance at balls and banquets, moving over the marble floors like water over rocks. Swaying to sweet music and always holding himself as a proper gentleman. Steve had never had the pleasure of sharing a dance with him. Not only would it have been improper, Steve -- for all his lessons -- couldn’t dance. He always dreaded occasions that called for him doing so.
He liked watching James defend his honor, moving through the ranks of Steve’s Household in proof that his lineage didn’t make him any less qualified than any of the other knights. It came with no surprise that his success was questioned. Why he was rising when there were so obviously more noble men eligible for such honors. No one noted, or seemed to care, of the dedication James had to his duties. Whenever anyone challenged James, he accepted graciously. And won. With dignity and honor every time.
Most of all, Steve liked the rare occasion that he’d catch James’ eye when he tried to sneak a look at the knight first. It never lasted, and Steve always looked away with a flush to his skin.
After only a few weeks, Steve found himself purposely in the same place as Sir James whenever he could just to be near him. Be near him, though, and hold only the small conversations that James cared to have, was all Steve could do.
Unlike Steve’s other men, James was less likely to share conversations with him at first. They had spoken very few times in those first few weeks, and whenever Steve tried to strike up discussion between them, James was civil and courteous. Never anything more. Never anything less. Behavior worthy of a knight under the prince’s command, even if Steve’s Household knew it was safer to be friendly with him than in other places.
Until the night Steve couldn’t sleep and looked for solace among the words and pages in the library. And caught the knight surrounded by a stack of books.
“Sir James?”
James snapped his head up as though Steve’s presence pulled him out a dream. Finding himself in the prince’s company was just as unexpected as being ripped from his thoughts.
“Your Highness,” he whispered. “My apologies.” He pushed away from the table. “I did not realize anyone would come in here so late. I’ll leave.”
“No you…” Steve put his hand out. “You don’t need to leave. I’d like the company. What are you reading?”
“Oh.” James’ eyes dropped to the book. “I… don’t know what it’s called.”
The admission had him blushing. His eyes went wide like he hadn’t meant to say that at all. He ducked his chin down.
“You don’t know what it’s called?” Steve asked. Eyes closed, James kept his chin down. Embarrassed, Steve thought. And when James shook his head, he knew why. “Can you read, James?”
“A… a little, Sir.” James picked his head up again. “I’m trying to learn, Your Highness. I think I’m doing well. Please, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. If the others find out…”
He didn’t need to go on with that. It was one thing for a knight in the far countryside to not know how to read. It was quite another thing for a knight in court. He’d need the education to carry out all his duties.
“Come,” Steve said as he sat down and pulled the book James had been huddled over closer to him. “Let me teach you.”
James just stood there for a moment. He looked shocked and even more nervous than Steve had ever seen.
“You, Your Highness? I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense.” Steve smiled and gestured to the chair next to him. “It won’t do to have a knight in my Household who cannot read. So sit down, Sir James. Let me teach you. This is Romeo and Juliet, by the way. A very tragic story.”
Teaching James to read turned out to not only be easy, but fun. James soaked up all the lessons Steve gave him in the secret cover of shadowed nights. Meeting in the library when the palace and capital slept. Despite not being taught how to read as a child, James was wildly intelligent and soon enough was reading to Steve as if he always could.
The nights they spent together, heads close as they poured over books and parchment as Steve took the lessons to another level and taught James how to write as well, went by quickly. All nights James wasn’t expected on guard duty, he’d meet Steve in the library where they quickly learned to be in each other's presence comfortably. Enough that James asked him about life in the palace and capital.
“You might think me spoiled,” Steve told him. “But my Queen Mother did not let me get away with tomfoolery. I had servants, yes, but she put me to work. When I wasn’t ill.”
“Ill, Your Highness?”
Steve nodded. “I was a very sickly child. The palace physician, Bruce, didn’t think I’d make it past infancy. Mother says it was my strength of will that got me through it all.”
That made James laugh. “I do believe that, Sir.”
Steve blushed and shook his head. “I’d like a chance to fight with you again. Without you letting me win.”
James blushed then and told him if they ever found themselves on even ground, it would be a pleasure. “You’re very good. Better than me, I think.”
Of that, they have not found out. Steve has pushed James to fight back hard and strong, but whenever he’s started, he yields. Unwilling to be pulled into a real duel with his prince.
James made him laugh with stories of the country. Of taming horses and milking cows and chasing chickens. His life before the knighthood sounded charming.
“What is your family like?” Steve asked.
“My father runs the farm very strictly. He doesn’t think reading and writing matters to run it. He’s a hard man to get along with. My mother is more pleasant. She taught me to dance and to be a gentleman. I have a sister,” James told him. “She’ll be married next month. To a physician. He must have wrote the letter they sent.”
“What made you want to become a knight?”
James grinned. “I dreamed of adventure beyond the working fields of a farm.” He then looked down at the book they were reading that night. “I was nine when I became a squire. Nineteen when I made my vows. I was excited when the war broke out. I wanted to taste the celebration of victory. I was foolish. I did not understand what war meant until I was in it.”
That was something Steve could understand. He had fought in the war as well. Commanded his own men and rode into battle. The stories and yarns of glory weren’t true, even with victory. There were cries of fear and anguish. Bloodshed and death. Steve had his share of blood on his own hands. Something that may have been necessary, but he can never really wash it off.
It was something they both shared, and Steve put his hand on James’ shoulder. James smiled, and placed a hand over Steve’s, seemingly appreciative of the sentiment. His hand closed around Steve’s fingers and they both glimpsed up at the same time. Their eyes met… and stuck. As though they were caught in a moment that eclipsed all others. A moment neither of them wanted to end.
Steve felt himself leaning closer to James. Closer to those eyes that sparkled even in candlelight and lips that glowed cherry red. James might have moved, too. Then he jerked away. Looked shocked at what he was doing. He then shook his head and cleared his throat. Moving away from Steve’s touch and even presence, James hovered over the book again and held himself very still for the rest of the night.
He stopped showing up to the library after that night. When Steve asked him why, he told him there was nothing left for him to learn.
This really should not have come as a surprise. Steve was a prince. James a knight -- from common means as well. A courtship between them was never possible anyway. A secret affair could mean harsh punishment for James if they were ever caught. Stripped of his title and made into a servant being the best option, though death was more likely.
Then came Steve’s birthright ceremony. His twenty-first birthday, making him eligible to ascend the throne at any given time. No longer would someone rule in his stead if the queen was to step down or die. The throne was his.
And everything changed.
***
“A time for celebration indeed!” Prince Anthony says as he holds up a chalice in toast to Steve. “I am happy to be here! Today is a day worth noting!”
Prince Anthony arrived just yesterday with King Howard and Queen Maria. Their country have always been friends with Steve’s even if a few years ago war almost broke out between them over a disputed terms of agreement. Diplomacy, however, won, and war was avoided.
Steve is sitting at the royal dais with several members of the council and his honored guests. To Steve’s left sits Duke Samuel -- his oldest friend and confidant. Samuel left the palace to oversee a province south of the capital. He is sure to call on Steve with each returning visit -- as Steve is when he visits Samuel’s land. To Steve’s right, is Princess Margaret, lovely as ever, who’s come from the kingdom south of theirs. There’s been talk between Sarah and Margaret’s father about uniting their kingdoms. But it’s never gone any further than words.
They all lift their chalices to accept Anthony’s toast and wait for Steve to do the same. He does, they toast and drink, and Anthony goes on talking to his lady consort, Virginia.
“Are you enjoy your evening, Your Highness?” Samuel asks. A smile plays on his lips. Samuel never calls Steve by his title unless he’s teasing him. He gestures out to the room full of guests. “After all, some have traveled miles just to be here with you.”
Steve chuckles and runs a finger along the arm of his throne. “An evening full of revelries. I am, Samuel. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Did you think I’d decline a royal invitation?” he laughs. Takes a sip of his wine and smiles at Steve. “Or miss such an important day of yours?”
Samuel lifts a hand, but leaves it up to Steve to return any sort of sentimental gesture. In privacy it would be different, but here in the public, it’s not proper etiquette to touch royalty first. Not that Steve cares for such protocol. However, if he’s going to be king someday, it’s his job to adhere to them. For now anyway.
Putting his hand atop Samuel’s, Steve grins and thanks his friend again for being there. There’s not much more time for conversations since performers begin to fill the hall. Shows before their meal and a night of dancing. A man called Wade is juggling flaming torches. Quite the spectacle. A young boy named Peter sings for them. A young lady who goes by Wanda performs feats of magic. The performances, as always, are well done and highly entertaining, but that doesn’t stop Steve from scanning the faces in the crowd.
Across the banquet hall, Steve spots the man he’s been trying not to look for. A futile effort since his eyes always seek him out. James is standing with a few courtiers, talking to one in particular. He’s wearing a big smile as he speaks with Lady Natasha, and laughs when he produces a rose from behind her ear.
Though Natasha rolls her eyes, she still accepts the token and brings it to her nose before tapping it against James’. James’ face crinkles with a snicker, and Steve can remember when James looked at him that way. Something inside of Steve hurts. In the past few months, they’ve barely said more than a few words to each other that haven’t been out of duty or necessity. He misses him. Misses the hours they would spend together lost in discussion of each other’s pasts and dreams. Of laughing and getting closer. Steve just misses him.
Right now James seems to be asking Natasha for her hand so he can escort her to her table. That’s when Steve realizes the first course of the meal is being served.
His Queen Mother is served first, of course, and then Steve second. All his guests at the dais and then the rest. No one eats until the queen does though Sarah is kind enough to wait until most everyone is served before beginning.
“He’s very attractive,” says a voice from his right. Sweet and kind with just the hint of teasing.
Steve glances at Margaret as her lady-in-waiting, Angela, hides a giggle behind her hand. Though Margaret and Angela are looking elsewhere, Steve’s sure she was addressing him just now.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The man you keep staring at.” She lifts her chalice to her lips before turning a playful eye on him. “Who is he?”
All of Steve’s face burns red. He can feel the flush rising up to the tips of his ears. In the last year, he’s never been caught staring at James. Or rather, no one would impose such insult on him by saying so if they have. Margaret is different. They’ve been friends for years.
“That’s Sir James of the family Barnes,” he tells her. “My Queen Mother appointed him to my Household last season.”
“Sir James Barnes?” Angela questions. “They call him the Winter Soldier?”
“That’s right,” Steve agrees.
“Are the stories true then, Your Highness?”
Steve leans a bit to get a better look at Angela as they speak. “Which stories would those be, Angela?”
“That he’s unbeatable.”
Gazing across the room at James again, Steve feels a twinge of jealousy as the knight he feels so strongly for sits and laughs with Lady Natasha and Sir Clinton, along with his wife, Lady Laura, whose belly is just beginning to show with their firstborn.
“I’ve heard the men speak,” Steve answers, and doesn’t say anything about his time spent with James. “Sir Clinton has told me that Sir James hasn’t a mark or scar on his body even after spending months in battle. And he’s never been bested in a tournament.”
“Is he as sweet as he looks?” Angela asks with a laugh.
“Angie,” Margaret pretends to scold, though she does seem curious to know the answer.
“He is kind,” Steve says. “I’ve seen him pretend to swordfight with children who come to court and train his men with a firm patience.” James’ authority has surpassed most in the past year. He now ranks second only under Sir Clinton of Steve’s guard. “And I’ve been told he sweeps across the battlements with warm bread to give to those on night patrol.”
He says nothing about the ease of which he can make Steve laugh. Or his intelligence. Or how soft his hands are and how hard he works.
“You seem to know a lot about him, Steven,” Margaret points out. “Has he become a companion?”
Like Angela is to her. Angela might be her princess’s lady-in-waiting, there to attend Margaret in anyway she might need, but she is more friend than anything else. Maybe… maybe even more, as is allowed in their kingdom.
“No,” Steve replies. “He doesn’t speak much to me.”
Not anymore. James concentrates on his work at almost all times. So much so, that Steve is sure he tries to avoid him more than needed.
“Why not?” Steve is startled to hear Samuel ask the question. Seems he’s been listening the whole time. “He’s accompanied you to the province before and he conversed freely with everyone.”
“Not me.”
And now Anthony chimes in as well. “Is he intimidated of his prince? He is a simple farmboy knight.”
“That simple farmboy knight,” Steve scolds. Sits up straight and feels the fire in his eyes. He won’t let anyone tarnish James’ name for any reason. “Fought for the King and in the Queen’s name. Same as all the others.”
Anthony grins and points at Steve. “That right there!” Steve doesn’t know what he means. “Is what makes you gold. And intimidating. Not that I’m intimidated.”
Steve sighs a little, but laughs nonetheless. He knows what Anthony means. Steve knows that he can be passionate, and as a prince, that can frighten people. But that has nothing to do with why James won’t speak with him anymore.
“You don’t worry about his loyalty, do you?” Samuel asks. Steve can hear the concern in his voice as he eyes the knight in question.
“No. I trust him.”
“Be careful, Steve. He’s ambitious. To make it from the countryside to the Prince’s Household.” Samuel drums fingers over the top of the dais. “Who knows where he expects his ambition to take him.”
Steve can appreciate Samuel’s worry -- after all, it’s how the late king, Steve’s father, lost his life. It’s why the country went to war. When King Joseph’s High Councillor, Johann, attempted a coup by gathering support of an enemy nation. If he succeeded, both Steve and Samuel, and all those loyal to the royal family, would’ve been put to the sword.
But Steve isn’t worried about that with Sir James. He might be ambitious, but he’s a good man. That’s something Steve knows with all his heart.
“Sir James takes his vows seriously,” Steve insists. “He won’t betray his prince.”
Angela giggles again. “I think His Highness fancies the knight.”
It’s an innocent enough statement, really. The problem is, she’s not wrong. Sir James is not someone Steve just wants for his looks or reputation as others might. He wants him for his mind and heart. James makes Steve’s heart beat pleasantly with every passing look he gives him, even though Steve is the prince. As his prince, Steve could have that. Steve can have anyone he wants. But Steve doesn’t want just anyone. He wants someone who wants him for who he is, not what he is. None of it matters anyway. Even if Sir James did want him, it could never be. James just doesn’t have enough nobility in his blood, on paper. And that’s what matters in the eyes of the law. Steve might be able to change it when he’s king. But he isn’t. Not yet. He’s not truly in a rush to be king either.
They have no chance to go on with their conversation. The queen stands and holds her hands out. She’s going to make a speech.
“Lords and ladies and honored guests,” she starts. “My son, Steven, and I are so pleased that you are with us on such a joyous occasion. Last season was hard on the kingdom. The death of King Joseph…” She trails off for a traditional moment of silence taken after stating the late king’s name. “And the war that followed has been difficult to overcome. But as a nation we’ve strived to restore our former glory and move through our grief. As your queen, I fully intend to continue making this great kingdom what it can be. When my son ascends the throne, I have no doubts in my mind that he will rule with the fairness and honor you deserve. And with King Harrison’s blessing--” Both Steve and Margaret glance at each other with the mention of her father’s name. “Our kingdoms will be finally united with the marriage of our children.”
Steve doesn’t hear the rest of the speech. The last thing he registers around him is Angela’s shocked intake of breath and Margaret’s reach for her hand. Everything then disappears. No one said anything to him about this. Not that he’s opposed to marrying Margaret. They’d make a fine match and Margaret will make a fine queen to rule by his side. It’s just…
Eyes floating over random faces in the room -- everyone watching the queen as she talks -- Steve looks at Sir James. The only one out in the crowd not looking at Sarah delivering her speech. He’s watching Steve. And for the first time in months, they catch eyes and neither of them look away.
There’s a tradition when announcing an engagement. Steve and Margaret are meant to share a dance in front of those they’re meant to rule. Somehow, he ends up in front of the dais with Margaret posed for their dance in front of him. Steve doesn’t even remember moving, but they’re ready to dance. The music plays. They move.
“Did you know about this?” Steve asks as he attempts to lead her across the floor without stepping on her feet. “Did you have any idea?”
“No,” she murmurs. There might be tears in her eyes, but Steve can’t be sure. “I didn’t.”
Stomach clenching, Steve feels his legs shaking a little. This was not how tonight was supposed to go, and he can see what Margaret hasn’t said.
“You don’t want to marry me.”
She blinks at him. “You don’t want to marry me either.”
“You’re in love with Angela.”
“I am.”
Tears sting behind his own eyes. “I’m sorry, Peggy.” He hasn’t used her nickname since they were children. It feels right in the moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too, Steve. I know you wanted to find love.”
They move across the floor, and Steve’s managed to only step on her foot once so far. He’s accidentally banged her head with his, but she only laughed.
“I do love you, Peg. I’ll be good to you. Treat you well. I promise.”
One tear slips from her eyes and she hastily wipes it away. “Oh, I know you will, Steven.”
The conversation ends and Steve continues his dance with her in silence. There’s nothing either of them can do about this. His mother is the queen. Her father is a king. They’ve decided. His Queen Mother is not unreasonable. Not in the slightest. She’s always been Steve’s shining star. The one who’s encouraged him to stand up whenever he gets knocked down. She’s taught him honor and the value hard work. If this is what needs to be done for their country, then it’s what Steve will do.
When the song ends and the dance is over, Steve escorts Margaret back over to the dais, and has his chalice filled with more wine. He drinks that glass quickly. And has more.
***
Steve doesn’t know how long he’s been standing out on the battlements. Having dismissed the guards there, he finds privacy for his thoughts. The air is clean and warm as it slips over his body in summer breezes. Out in the distance, Steve can see the dark shadowed hills beyond the capital city. There are cities and villages and towns beyond those hills. All of which will be his. His people. He doesn’t have to know each and every one of them, but he still loves them all with all his heart. He’ll do whatever it takes to make his kingdom right and prosperous. Even if that means marrying for unity rather than romance.
“Your Highness?”
The voice rings right through his body. Swims in his belly and fills his lungs with the sweetest air. Steve turns to see James stepping onto the battlements with him.
“Yes?” Steve says. “What is it Sir James?”
James pauses before saying, “The banquet, Sir. It’s still going on. Your absence will be noticed.”
“Did my mother send you to fetch me?”
That actually sees James blushing. Steve hasn’t seen him blush since their time spent in the library.
“No, Your Highness. But your absence was noticed.”
“Was it? By whom? Who sent you?”
“No one sent me.”
No one sent him. His absence has been noticed though. And it clicks. James has come on his own. He noticed Steve was missing for a much longer stretch of time than acceptable.
James says, “I thought, perhaps, you could use… some company.”
Some company. There’s a piece of Steve that wishes he could ask for a hug. To just rest his heavy head on someone’s shoulder and be held the way his mother did when he was a child. It is an unreasonable desire to have. Steve is a prince, and the sweet comforts afforded to others, are not available for him.
Words dried up, Steve can only bring himself to nod in appreciation before turning back to look out at his future kingdom again. James comes to stand by him in silence. For a while, neither of them say a word as the night, which only a few minutes ago beat with the harsh tension of an arranged marriage, eases around them. They’re standing very close together though. James’ hand rests over the stone ledge. Close enough to Steve’s that Steve can feel the warmth that comes from it.
Steve wants to take it. Hold it in his and keep James close to him. He feels right with James next to him. Safe. Safe from all dangers that wish to seek him and, above all, safe to be himself. To be doting and playful and even a little scared.
“I never thanked you,” James murmurs. Breaking the silence and sending a chill down Steve’s spine. “For teaching me to read and write.”
“It was no trouble.” Maybe Steve has had too much wine. Or maybe he just doesn’t care anymore. He’s engaged. “I enjoyed our time together.”
Steve takes a glimpse to the side to see James staring out across the dark city. He looks to be struggling with his thoughts.
“As did I, Your Highness.”
Leaving his eyes on the knight for a few moments, Steve sighs before turning to once again lay eyes upon his kingdom.
“You may call me by my birth name,” he says softly. “If you want.”
There’s a smile in James’ voice when he says, “Thank you, Steve.”
“I hear the men sometimes calling you Bucky. Is that your nickname?” James nods. “May I use it, James?”
“You’re my prince,” he says. “You may call me anything you’d like.”
Yes, this is something Steve already knows. But that’s not what Steve wants right now. He needs more than that. Steve glances over at him again.
“I know. But may I call you Bucky?”
James turn to look at him again and meets Steve’s eye. Steve’s heart does strange things again when Bucky smiles at him like he’s amazed by something.
“I’d like that, Your Highness. Steve.”
“Bucky,” Steve says. “Thank you for finding me. I thought I wanted to be alone, but… I think I needed a friend.”
“Is that what I am? A friend?”
“Would you like to be?” Steve asks with a hard twist of his heart.
He knows it’s a strange request. To desire friendship within the ranks of his men just isn’t done. There’s a sense of duty and loyalty to the Crowned Prince and the royal family that is to be maintained at all times. That’s a part of the vows of knighthood. That duty and loyalty is all James is supposed to care about. Besides which, fraternizing with the lower members of his Household is indecent behavior of a Prince. Especially someone like James. The best knight in his guard and yet still looked down upon because of his limited bloodline and lack of ties to nobility.
“I believe people will talk,” Bucky whispers. “Gossip about my intentions and accuse you of weakness for letting a man like me get close.”
“Let them,” Steve argues. “I care not what the people think. You have no malintent.”
“Don’t I?” He sighs and shakes his head. “I… have to tell you something.”
“Speak freely,” Steve says. “Go on.”
“Steve…” Bucky says his name like he’s testing the taste of it upon his lips. “I wanted a position on the Queen’s Guard. Not the Prince’s. I came to the capital, not to protect you, Your Highness, but to secure my future.”
“And you have done both. Do you believe your goals to be so unique? I doubt you’re the only man in my Household to have similar dreams.”
The knight scans his eyes over Steve’s face as though he’s processing all that’s gone on around them. He nods once, long and slow, and then his lips set in a line.
“I was disappointed to be given to you.” Steve lowers his eyes. He had figured as much the day Bucky was called to court. “And when you found me in the library that night…” He takes in a deep breath. “I thought I could… use it to my advantage. Maybe if you saw me as more than a lowly countryside knight, I would gain more. My ambitions blinded me to the truth.”
“And…” Steve needs to clear his throat. Rid himself of the rock that’s formed there and makes it hard to breathe. “What is the truth?”
“That to serve under you is the greatest honor I could have ever hoped for.” His eyes sweep down and then back up to Steve’s. There’s a small grin on his lips. “To have you call me friend is a privilege I never dreamed to have.” Bucky’s hand inches closer to Steve’s. “Do you love her?”
This has been more pleasant that Steve could have ever imagined. Bucky’s admitted things to him he’s never expected anyone to admit to their prince. He’s handed over to him a piece of trust, and Steve will treat it gently. So he doesn’t mean to get angry. It’s a perfectly reasonable question, but not one that Steve wants to be asked. Certainly not by Bucky. And still, Steve can’t look away from him.
“That’s not appropriate for you to be asking me.”
“I know,” he whispers. Bucky keeps his gaze on Steve the whole time. “But I’m jealous.”
The words barely come out. If they were anywhere other than the battlements, where it’s still and quiet, Steve might have missed it.
“Jealous,” Steve repeats. Turns the word over in his head. All this time, Steve’s been jealous of all those he’s seen Bucky grace with his time. He never, not once, believed anyone to be jealous of him for such a thing. “Aren’t you courting Lady Natasha?”
A sad smile touches Bucky’s mouth.
“No.” He reaches out and places a hand over Steve’s chest. It’s wrong and improper. No one should be touching the prince without permission. Bucky, Steve thinks, always has that permission. “When the queen told me I would be assigned to your Household, I thought I knew what I’d be getting into. I knew only of the arrogance of royalty. I thought you’d be worse than any nobility I’d ever met. Spoiled and entitled and rotten. I thought…” Bucky lets out one soft, humorless laugh. “I thought I could just keep my mouth shut and deal with the rest of your Household looking down on me and all the whispers of the court of my upbringing and the outrageous demands of a prince.” Bucky lowers his eyes. “I would pay my dues and end up on the King’s Guard one day. That’s all the mattered. Advancement.” Looking back up at Steve, Bucky stretches a smile. “But you’re nothing like how I thought you’d be. You inspire loyalty in your men with kindness. You work with them and train with them. You command with your heart. And you never looked at me like I didn’t belong.”
The clouds seem to have brought Steve up with them. That’s where he’s ended up on this night of unexpected announcements and sweet moonlit confessions.
“What are you saying?”
“I suppose it’s a commoner’s dream. To turn the eye of royalty.”
“You haven’t talked to me in months.”
“I was trying to forget you,” he murmurs and closes his eyes. “Forget the kindness in your eyes and the warmth in your voice. I knew my goals. You were never a part of them. I tried to forget. And I’ve found…” Bucky’s eyes open again. “I could not.”
The air feels charged around them. Stirring quick and fast and hard around them as Steve’s heart slams against his chest. His throat feels too tight. He needs to wait a moment to speak.
“Why?” he asks. “Why did you want to forget me?”
“Because cannot fall in love with you,” Bucky whispers. The words dance along Steve’s heart and soul. “I cannot love my prince.”
“But I love my knight.”
It’s not what he means to say, but the words just burst free from Steve. He’s been holding them in for so long. The freedom he feels his unimaginable. A weight lifted, even if the sentiment cannot be returned. Tears touch the brim of Bucky’s eyes. They cooperate, and do not fall from there, but shimmer in the torch’s light.
“I cannot forget you,” Bucky mumbles as Steve takes a step closer. “I am weak.”
“You are strong,” Steve says softly. His fingertips brush gently along Bucky’s jaw line. The skin under Steve’s fingers is soft and warm. Warmer now as it flushes. “You are the strongest man I know.”
Bucky licks his lip. “Second,” he breathes. “You’ve forgotten yourself, my prince.”
The hand Steve has close to him fits comfortably at the side of Bucky’s face. It makes him gasp and close his eyes, but he doesn’t move away. After a moment, Bucky leans into the touch.
“I want to kiss you.”
“You’re my prince,” Bucky murmurs. “You can. You can order me to.”
“I know.” Steve leans in. Their lips are just a breath apart. “You know I won’t.”
“This is not how our stars are written.”
“I am a prince,” Steve says. “I will find a way to rearrange them.”
A tear rolls down Bucky’s cheek. “Steve…”
That’s all Bucky can say, since Steve is no longer able to hold back from kissing him. Bucky tenses at first. This is not supposed to happen. A prince and a countryside knight. But Steve can’t help it. He loves him, since the moment he laid eyes on him, and wants only to be loved by him, too. When he slips fingers into Bucky’s hair, Bucky whimpers softly.
And kisses back.
***
“You’re very beautiful,” Steve murmurs as he kisses up Bucky’s inner thigh. “Have I told you that?”
“On more than one occasion,” Bucky replies as he lets his head drop back into the silk and fluffy pillows of Steve’s bed. “And I never tire of hearing it.”
Steve smiles as he presses his lips to the sweet tasting, soft skin that leads to Bucky’s cock. He knows the absurdity of it all. A prince being down on his knees while a countryside knight lays back in his bed. He prefers not to think about it. Because he certainly doesn’t care and when Bucky sighs happily as Steve’s mouth slips over him, it’s worth all the absurdities in the world.
These past few months have been some of Steve’s happiests. Having Bucky share his bed is more than a dream come true.
Bucky’s hands come to rest on Steve’s head as Steve pleasures him with his mouth. His own length is beginning to stir again between his legs. Bucky’s touch does everything to him. It stirs the most primal instincts inside of him, and all Steve ever wants to do is put his hands all over him.
The long, long days are tormenting. They have to keep their love hidden and Steve has never found anything so strenuous. Not even sickly winters or long training hours can compare. Steve has arranged for Bucky to by on his daily guard. Personal. Bucky is with him at almost all times. It’s probably not the wisest idea, but he just wants to be near him. Even if that means teasing each other with looks and sweet, moist lips.
Everyday is exhausting. All Steve longs to do is share his love for Bucky openly. For the world to know that Bucky is his and he is Bucky’s. To get his mother’s blessing and marry the man he loves. He doesn’t dare even touch his knight in a most innocent way in public lest it put Bucky in danger.
Bucky’s vow to the Prince’s Guard is to protect Steve with his life. Steve will not see Bucky shamed or dishonored due to his selfish desires.
It’s all worth it when the day ends and Steve locks the door to his chambers and they no longer need to be prince and knight. That’s when titles shed and they’re only Steve and Bucky. Two men who love each other. Wholly and unconditionally.
“Steve…” Bucky groans. His knees are shaking next to Steve’s head. “Oh… please…” Steve slows his pace. He likes it when Bucky whimpers and begs. He says he likes it, too. “No…” he whines. “Don’t tease me… please… Your Highness…”
That makes Steve moan around Bucky’s cock. He can’t help it. Hearing Bucky use his title like that, when they’re together and they belong to each other equally, just makes him wild. Bucky knows that and maybe it’s an unfair ploy to get what he wants, but Steve does anyway. He sucks harder and the grip in his hair gets tighter as Bucky shouts with his release.
Steve swallows him down. Maybe the country believes that he should never be doing this. Giving himself over to the service and pleasure of another. He’s a prince. Divine by every right.
And still, Steve is on his knees, and looks up onto his bed where Bucky lays pliant across the mattress. He smiles. Steve loves the way Bucky looks after he pleasures him. Eyes half-lidded and mouth cracked open. Chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he takes. Bucky might still hold back in the arena, but not here.
As always, Steve’s servants have prepared a tray of fruit and a pitcher of water for him. They’ve assumed, by now, that it’s simply part of Steve’s nightly routine. Not that they’d ever question him, but he no longer needs to specifically ask for the grapes and berries and breads and chocolates. They’re just there. Waiting for him every night.
Steve pours water into the one chalise that they share and then brings the tray over to set it down on the mattress. Bucky hasn’t moved. When sits beside him, his eyes open and he smiles. He first lifts his chin up so that Steve can clean him with a towel. Patting him dry so that his skin doesn’t get sticky and uncomfortable from dried sweat.
“Come on,” Steve whispers when he finishes with that. “Let me spoil you.”
“Glady.”
He curls into Steve’s embrace and hums. It’s always so incredible. Bucky is so strong. A relentless force on the tournament fields and in the arena. And yet, here, in Steve’s bed, he’s so soft and sweet. He let’s Steve take care of him when their days are filled with Bucky overseeing most everything Steve does.
“I worry,” he’s told Steve. “If someone ever hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.”
Bucky doesn’t need to worry when they’re together in Steve’s chambers, so he just relaxes against him and lets Steve feed him berries and accepts the chalice to his lips. Steve carefully pulls the thick, goose-feathered blankets around them and they lay down together. He strokes Bucky’s hair -- which is getting a little long, but remains so soft -- and kisses the back of his neck. Bucky sighs softly.
“I love it when you do that,” he murmurs sleepily.
Steve chuckles. “I know. That’s why I do it.”
Taking hold of Steve’s hand, Bucky brings his knuckles to his lips and plants a soft kiss. Not like one would when greeting royalty of a foreign nation. Bucky’s mouth lingers for a moment before he turns the hand he’s holding and eases Steve’s his fingers open. He kisses there as well before fixing it to the side of his face and nuzzling into him.
“I do love you so,” Bucky says. “Steve, tell me again. What would it be like?”
Steve pulls him in closer to kiss the top of his head. He tells him what it would be like if there were no obstacles in their way despite the knots that tie in his stomach every time he does.
“I would hold your hand, Bucky. For everyone to see.” Against his palm, Steve can feel Bucky smile. So Steve takes his hand away and laces their fingers. “Like this. I’d show you off to the world. Let everyone know how much I love you. The countryside knight so true and noble that he stole a prince’s heart.” This time it’s Steve who kisses Bucky’s knuckles. “We’d go riding together.”
Bucky likes to ride. It clears his head, he says. Steve understands that. They’ve snuck out before and he can see the thoughts and worries that keep Bucky from slipping into peace just float away. The look in his eyes makes Steve want to capture the moment for him so he can have it always.
“Everyday?” Bucky asks, and rolls over to face him. His nose just brushes against Steve’s chest.
“Everyday.” Steve can feel Bucky’s breath as it rolls along his skin. “And I would dance with you on our wedding night.”
Lifting his chin, Bucky rests it against Steve and grins. “I could teach you.”
“I’ve been taught,” Steve huffs.
Bucky chuckles. “And yet you still manage to step all over your partner’s feet.”
Steve reaches over Bucky and plucks a strawberry from the ignored tray. He holds it up to his lips but doesn’t let him bite it just yet.
“Would you mind?”
“Mm.” He snuggles into him and opens his mouth. Strawberries are his favorite. And Steve likes being a tease. “No. Not at all. Please?”
“Will you be good?”
“You know I will.”
He does know that. Bucky works harder than anyone he’s ever seen. Whether on guard duty or helping to train young men or just practicing. Steve’s never had anyone he can depend on more than Bucky. He feeds him the fruit.
“Tell me you love me, Steve.”
Slipping his fingers under Bucky’s chin, he coaxes his face up so that he can press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I love you, Bucky. You have my heart.”
His heart. Because that’s all Steve can give to him. Steve is betrothed to one person and is in love with another. But Steve will give Bucky what matters most.
“Your heart,” Bucky whispers and places his hand over that spot. “I will cherish it always.”
They fall asleep like that. Tangled together in a prince’s bed, in love and never meant to be, with Bucky’s hand still over Steve’s heart.